


Mountain Mother (Alternate)

by illyth



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Female Bilbo, Gold Sickness, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Rebuilding Erebor, attempted murder in the first chapter......fair warning., besides the BotFA, but that's the only scary part, girl!Bilbo, that has to be a little crazy.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 19:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 41,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2593685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illyth/pseuds/illyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is more Took than Baggins, and she was so very lonely in her cozy smial. How would the story change for a young Billa Baggins, only a few years past her majority? How would this Billa's story end?</p><p>*this story starts right before the BotFA and will continue in to the rebuilding of Erebor*</p><p>This is my Mountain Mother story without any of the non/con and stalker content that the other version has. Please heed tags for Thorin being a total jackass in the first chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tleia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tleia/gifts), [thewritehag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewritehag/gifts), [shoujo_goddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoujo_goddess/gifts), [Arlynna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlynna/gifts), [Peramia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peramia/gifts).



> Hello Everyone! 
> 
> This is a different story of my other work Mountain Mother. I got a lot of comments about the anxiety people have when reading stories with trigger warnings. So I went back through my comments and PM's and am gifting this work to those people who said they wished the story was different during those parts. It's fanfiction! And you are my followers so by god I will give you what you want and deserve, a story to enjoy!

**Chapter One**

 

 

“Please Thorin, can’t you see that I did this to save you!” The Dwarf King turned his ic blue eyes to the small burglar of his company, the wind whipped her copper hair back from her shoulders, if the King had not been so lost to the gold lust he would have seen the tears rimming her wide green eyes and the heartbreak on her face. He would have seen her love. “Save me!” he thundered “You have betrayed me! You have brought my enemies to my very gates, you gave them the symbol of my right to rule!” he gestured to below the battlements where Bard, Thranduil and Gandalf watched the conflict.

“Congratulations, thief, you have accomplished the greatest act of treason capable of this company.” He snarled it at her and when she flinched back, as if struck, he sneered in satisfaction. But as the King stepped forward to bear down upon her presence, she straightened. It was a familiar stance, the same defiance she had shown Azog in the forest, the same burning passion she had defended her King with, now turned against him.

“I will save you Thorin Oakenshield, even from yourself!” she shouted it up into his face “I will not let you destroy the only family I have left!”

The King let out a dark chuckle and gestured to his other 12 companions, “You think us family, fair burglar? Look at you, how could any claim you as kin? You small, weak, naive thing, more suited for child bearing than battle and you don’t even have anything to show for your one usefulness. No suitors, no husband and no prospects. None could love you!”

And these words, like none other, broke the poor hobbit lass. Of course he used her greatest fears, her whispered confessions of inadequacies, loneliness and longing she had shared in the darkness of the night watches. Of course he used the trust she had shown him against her. She gazed at her companions, surely they did not all feel as Thorin did? Surely they had not all gone mad? But as her eyes searched their bearded faces, she found not one soft look, not one saving grace amongst those she had claimed as kin, had fought for as only a Hobbit fights for their family.

Not in Ori, sweet Ori who had blushingly shown her his sketches of the company and whispered to her his affection for Dwalin. Ori, with his soft green eyes and quiet smile who had listened to her whisper her dreams of a garden filled with fauntlings and a Beltane wedding. His eyes were cold now, like malachite and his face was twisted in a sneer.

Balin, dear protective Balin, who had gentled Thorin’s tongue with stories of Dwarrow lore, who had given her first braid, a scholars braid, for knowing Westron, Quenya and Sindarian and being a map maker, no matter how poor they seemed to her eyes. He was a grandfather like the Old Took, feeding her mind and soul with knowledge.

Dwalin, who had thanked her for defending his King when he couldn’t and taught her to use Sting more like a sword and less like a club; who had pulled her hair back in a training braid and called her a shomakith. Dwalin, who now pointed Grasper and Keeper towards her throat with the look of a berserker in his eyes.

Fili and Kili were changed too. They had not pulled a prank on or with her since they entered the halls of Erebor, no spiders in her bedroll and she hadn’t tied their braids together in weeks. The two she thought of as brothers, now had hatred in the lines around their eyes.

Not Oin who had taught her common herbs on the roadside to help with her monthly bleedings. Nor Gloin, who had praised her for managing her accounts at her young age and for turning a profit on her first business venture of a vineyard. Nori, who taught her to lock pick and pick pockets and Dori who mended her clothes after the Goblin tunnels. Bifur and Bombur who bracketed her bedroll every night since the Shire to keep her warm and from harm and Bofur who teased her and laughed with her, like she had always wished to do with her Baggins and Took cousins.

All looked at her like she was a worm, a disgusting thing to be thrown to the wayside and spit upon. None of them loved her after all. When her eyes swept back to Thorin’s dark face he grinned in a sick triumph, for he saw her despair. “Now you see burglar, that you are not our kin, our friend. You are a traitor to the line of Durin and you will never set foot in my mountain again. It is time for you to leave and none of my good will goes with you.”

With this last, damning decree the King’s calloused hand shot out towards the small lass and grabbed her by her blue coat and hefted her high, with her large feet dangling he walked her toward the battlements and held her over the edge. Thorin turned his gaze to the men below him and watched them pale as they realized who he held over the edge. “Traitors to my rule will not be tolerated and neither will threats to my birthright. See how the dwarrows of Erebor will treat those who oppose them.”

Gandalf, Bard and Thranduil looked on with growing horror, though the latter disguised it quite well, as the King Under the Mountain railed at the small hobbit lass and as he hefted her high on the battlements the gray wizard shouted his dissent.

“Thorin Oakenshield don’t you dare lay a finger on my burglar!” His words did not reach the top of battlements before the mad King gave Billa one last mad grin and released her from his grasp. The shouts of dismay and anger from the men below were drowned out by the high pitched shriek of the falling hobbit.


	2. Chapter 2

** Chapter Two **

They say your life is supposed to flash before your eyes as you die. That in your final moments all your greatest efforts and deepest pitfalls will be weighed between your soul and the Valar. And with your last breaths you would know if you would have your place in Yavanna fields or the endless fire of perdition.

Billa did not see that. Billa saw blue eyes, burning with the fire of hatred and yet cold enough to freeze her soul. She saw thirteen faces watching despondently as she fell to her death. She felt her heart break as surely as she was to feel her bones, in but a moment. She saw her world end.

And then everything stopped. Her scream, her heart, her mind stopped racing. She stopped. Billa felt the descent begin again but it was a floating feeling, a soft cushion, carrying her to the ground. Her hair hung beneath her as she whipped back and forth trying to understand how this had happened.

Then she saw him, Gandalf the Grey in all his wizard glory, her most stalwart defender since she was but a faunt. His staff was glowing and the wind was whipping his cloak and the magic he wrought was great indeed, to slow a falling body and stop it completely before it shattered on the slope before the mountain. Oh, how she loved Gandalf!

He was running for her, his arms outstretched to catch her as she neared the ground and when he embraced and cradled her like a she was still that same small fauntling she felt the wave of despair begin to rise. Her guts tightened and her eyes burned. Her throat was closing and she knew she was on a knife’s edge to a most unseemly display of emotion. But as she took gasping, choking breaths trying to dispel her terror, she buried her head in his chest. She could smell Old Toby. The same pipe weed Bungo would smoke in the evenings at Bag End, sitting on the front bench while telling Billa stories of his boyhood in the Shire. How he would sneak crops from Farmer Maggots fields ‘for even Bagginses like us, must prove their mettle against that old codger’. And she broke. Straight down the middle. She gasped and sobbed and her tears soaked Gandalf’s beard and his coat was surely ruined.

But for once she did not care. Her family had left her again but this time it was their choice, this time she knew that SHE was not good enough. This wasn’t wolves or illness. This was her! And if she could have seen over Gandalf’s shoulder she would have seen even the Elvenking’s face twist in distaste at her treatment. She would have seen Bard’s hands twist tight around the Arkenstone and Gandalf, well, Gandalf looked ready to kill.

And with this last action, the fate of the Dwarrows was sealed. The men’s hearts turned to stone. They remembered this bright Hobbit who had invaded their market during the Company’s stay. Who had spent hours telling tales of bravery to their boys and weaving flower crowns for their girls. Who had smiled at every citizen of Laketown and never failed to thank them for every kindness the people of the lake could muster, meager though they were. Damn the Dwarrows of Erebor. Damn them all.

The Elves had distrusted Dwarves for many years. They knew of their greed and dark hearts even before Thror’s reign. But never had they seen this depravity turned against another race so terribly, surely Thorin Oakenshield was the sickest King ever to shadow the Greenwood. They had not known how the Dwarves had been released from their cells, but they knew they had imprisoned thirteen and none of them were fair lasses like this Hobbit. But upon seeing the small lass who claimed to be a burglar, well, it didn’t take much to see who had orchestrated the jailbreak and from under their noses nonetheless. Then for that same small, young thing to stand before the King of the Greenwood and barter? Well, Elves get a surprise like that once an Age. This Miss Baggins of the Shire must have loved these Dwarves indeed, to risk the wrath of the Greenwood twice.

As one, the forces of Elves and Men turned their backs on the last great Dwarf Kingdom and walked away, their footsteps in cadence to the Halfling's heart wrenching sobs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filler Chapter!
> 
> shomakith - young guard

** Chapter Three **

When Billa woke up, it was to a white tent roof, the same tent she had bartered away the Arkenstone away in just last evening. She was on a cot in the corner and Gandalf sat at the table in the center, slouched in his chair and puffing on his pipe. She could smell the Old Toby and, oh, how her heart ached again. She squeezed her eyes shut against the return of her tears. She would not cry. She was Billa Baggins, the Lady of Bag End. She was the Dragonriddler and Prisionbreaker she was  **shomakith** …… well maybe not  **shomakith**  anymore. But she had made her bed and now she would lie in it. If in saving the lives of her family from orcs, wargs and starvation she would stay cast out of their presence, she would bear her punishment with dignity, knowing that putting your family before oneself was the greatest sacrifice a Hobbit could make.

The same sacrifice her Mother had made during the Fell Winter.

She would be strong, strong like her Mother. Though that didn’t make it hurt any less now.

She fisted her sheets and, groaning, sat up. Her eyes felt stiff and her throat was raw. But she was alive. Her dwarrows were alive and because of her they would stay so.

‘Deep breaths Billa, you can do this. You can’t break yet. You have one more thing to do before you can let go.’

“Gandalf” her voice sounded as wrecked as her body felt. The grey wizard turned to his young charge “Oh Billa dear, I warned you not to go back. You knew he was infected with the gold madness. You knew you were in danger! You silly child!” the wizard had gone from looking all his years to a simmering rage. Billa knew it was not for her. “How could you risk yourself so? Fool of a Took!” and with that last bellow he sagged in on himself and walked slowly to her cot and sat with her, his pipe, still smoldering in his hand. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me?” this was whispered into her copper curls as he brought her into his arms again.

It was a quiet moment between the two and the hobbit lass used the cover of his comfort to whisper something she had been afraid to dwell on previously “I didn’t know they were all so bad Gandalf. I didn’t think they had all left me so.” Her voice dropped further “That they would all be so sick, that they would all” and here her voice broke “hate me so.”

She felt her tears gathering again and rubbed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair her fingers got caught in her braid halfway through the motion. She brushed it again, bebother and confusticate her dwarves. They were stupid and they were cruel but once they loved her, once she was family to them and she could not feel anything but empty knowing that their love was fragile, and her worth so small.

The moment was broken when Bard and Thranduil strode into the tent with their generals and guardsmen, decked in armor and weaponry. “Gandalf” sighed the Bowman, his face a tight grimace “they have reached the edge of the horizon. They will be here in three hours!” Gandalf left his burglar on the cot and met the two warriors at the table. “Will Dain fight with us? Or will we be fighting two wars at once?” Thranduil snorted at the mention of the Lord of the Ironhills “Dain Ironfoot had best fight with us or he is as stupid as the King Under the Mountain.” He spat Thorin’s title like a curse.

“Dain Ironfoot” a low, booming voice started as the tent flaps were moved aside “will speak for himself, Elvenking.” And in strode a large dwarf with hair of rusted iron and a beard like a broom’s head, if brooms wore twenty some beads of steel and iron. Billa’s heart ached when she noticed his Durin blue eyes, the same ones she saw on Thorin and Fili, though his were not twisted with hate. Yet.

“We will ally ourselves with Elves and Men. If only so less of us die. I am not so blind as my cousin and I will not let my people uselessly perish.” The Dwarf lord’s face grew heavier when his gaze reached Billa “What King Thorin has done to you was not properly deliberated; he is taken with the gold madness of Thror and Thrain. But neither were your actions right. If you were of my court, I would have killed you as well.” His matter of fact tone had every tall being in the tent bristling and Thranduil’s curt response was unexpected but it warmed Billa to her core.

“Children often do not understand or appreciate the lengths a parent goes to, to ensure their safety and will only see the wisdom when they too are grown. Billa’s actions were the guided by her maternal heart.” And here the Elf’s face twisted into some sick satisfaction, “Truly, Dwarves must be birthed from stone to not understand the love and fire of a mother or father.”

The Dwarves behind Dain began shouting and slurring curses in Khuzdul but Dain just spread his hands in supplication. “Let’s us first live through the day, then we can judge this Burglar’s actions”

“Thank you, Lord Dain,” Gandalf soothed “let us plan for battle.”

Billa settled on her cot to wait out their tactics session with a heavy heart. The orcs and wargs were on their doorstep and her family was not yet safe, despite all her efforts. Billa dreaded what more she might still sacrifice to protect the ones she still loved, she had already given her heart. Would she pay in lifeblood as well as tears?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billa prepares for the Battle.
> 
> shomakith - young guard

** Chapter Four **

“Billa, dear,” spoke Gandalf “when the Orcs and wargs come, I would like you to stay with Thranduil and his archers. It will be the safest place for you.”

The Elvenking and Bowman nodded along with Gandalf, the Shire lass had done enough, this was no longer her fight and they turned back to their maps and tactics, expecting what everyone always had, a meek and obedient maid.

“No.” the word rang through the tent and every conversation hushed as all heads turned to look at Billa.

She stood as tall as she could, while surround by beings more than twice her height. She grabbed Sting from her bedside and slung it about her waist, “I am not some pretty maid to be coddled.” She buckled the belt “I have fought Azog the Defiler. I killed the giant spiders in Mirkwood all by myself, thank you very much! And I” she thrust her shoulders back and flipped her thick hair over her shoulder “am  **shomakith**  to the Line of Durin. They are the only family I have left. A Hobbit who did not fight for their Kin is soft soled indeed!”

Though none but Gandalf knew how grave an insult to Hobbits it was to be soft soled, the others could sense the stubbornness of the lass. Still Gandalf was less inclined to allow it but he faltered when Billa’s eyes met his. They were still bright green, like the Ivy that climbed her trellis at Bag End. But they burned with something sad, fierce and beyond name.

 “Gandalf, you knew that this would be the only Home I had. You knew it when you proposed my coming.” Her stance faltered “You knew I would have nothing to go back to.”

“I know Billa and I am so very sorry.” The wizard knelt on the dirt floor of the tent “This was supposed to be your new home. Not” he whispered “not your desolation.” He kissed the top of her copper curls. “Fight well, Billa Baggins. May your Green Mother watch over you when I cannot.” And he stood from the ground and held her tight one last time before sweeping from the tent to join the front lines of Men and Elves who would meet the Orcish army in less than an hour.

Billa turned her attention to Dain and his warriors that were still in the tent, and though he stated he would have killed her just as Thorin had tried, she girded herself and stepped to his side.

“I will fight with your lines, Lord Dain. I am less likely to be stepped on and am only used to complementing Dwarfish fighting tactics.” And here a small smile graced her lips “though none of you are as tall as Dwalin, I’m certain I could still slide under your legs just as well. Orcs never expect a groin shot.”

Dain could only stare at the small burglar and nod. Just who was this lass from Thorin’s company? She had a strong spine indeed, to fight against things so much bigger than her, with many more decades of battle to their blades, for a Company that had cast her aside and tried to snuff out her life. Dain’s heart softened, just the slightest,  **shomakith**  of the line of Durin indeed.

And as the tent emptied of Dain and his dwarves and Thranduil and his elves followed after, Billa stepped into the sunlight and turned to the north and looked upon the Lonely Mountain one more time. Her chest ached and she clutched a hand over her heart. If she could not live with her family, she would die defending them. Billa could never stand to be so lonely again.

The battle was waiting and so was a glorious death.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billa fights in the Battle of the Five Armies, for family and for love.

**  Chapter 5 **

Billa had tasted many strange and disgusting things in her 37 years of life, the tonics Oin mixed when she was sick in Laketown, giant spider blood, that time she drank her Father’s inkwell thinking it was black licorice juice. Orc blood was worse than all those things, so very much worse. It tasted like a rotten carcass smelled a hot cloying taste that stuck on her tongue no matter how many times she spit and coughed. It wasn’t like her blood or her dwarfs’ blood, which dripped like tears. Orc blood was thick and gloopy and oozed. If she had anything in her stomach she would have thrown it up 30 odd orcs ago. But that was a thought for later, how silly that she couldn’t get it out of her head, no matter how her muscles burned or how weak her sword arm was becoming. No matter how many orcs she killed or how many dwarves she watched die. She couldn’t focus on anything but the taste of damn orc blood.

  
She cut the hamstring of another Warg as a dwarf skewered its rider with a pike.

  
She hadn’t lied to Dain. Dwalin had given her thorough instructions in her greatest advantage, her height. While the battle cries and glinting armor drew the eyes of the orcs, the spilt blood masked her from the Wargs. She was a good as invisible. She was the stinging fly. And oh, how deadly she could be.

  
She would cut them low, hamstring them, sever the tendon in their heel and then, while they lay screeching on the ground, desperately trying to flail their weapons she would stab them. Through the head, chest or stomach, it didn’t matter as long as they stopped moving for the rest of eternity.

  
She drove Sting through the throat of her next target. She had never seen blood spurt quite like that before. 'How fascinating'. Oh dear, Billa wondered if she was going a teensy bit battle mad.

  
The dwarf to her left bellowed as the jaws of a Warg closed on his torso. She stabbed that one through the eye.  
Ew, eye jelly. It tasted quite awful as well.

  
She slipped in the mud, slipped and was covered in it. She was covered in a lot of things, mud on top of orc blood on top of grit and grime. Yavanna she wanted a bath.

  
Slash, stab and run.  
Slash, stab and run.  
Slash, stab and……………

  
The howl that gave her pause was not like the howl of other wargs. It was louder, darker and familiar, as she had only gotten personal with one warg before, it narrowed things down quite a bit. The White Warg was hunting and the knowledge brought a chill to her bones, Azog only hunted one thing, the blood of the Line of Durin.

  
‘Thorin! Fili! Kili! NO!’

  
She ran. She broke from the ranks of Lord Dain’s men and sprinted to the top of a pile of dead….. Well, best not think about it now. She could see much further up here. But surely Thorin and the boys had not come out of the mountain?

  
Oh….. But they had. They were half a furlong away. An immense distance in a battle, where the terrain was deadly enemies with razor teeth and jagged weapons and having hobbit legs made it all the longer. Thorin stood his ground with Orcrist in hand while Fili and Kili stood near his back. Kili having run out of arrows long ago was using his short sword while Fili was deadly with his twin falchion. Thank the Green Mother they were still alive. The Orcs had them encircled and their wargs kept any who fought to reach their side at bay. Azog and his warg were striding toward the Durin’s, his enemies falling dead and his followers parting like the sea before a ship. She may not reach them in time, but she would try.

  
‘Please boys, hold on’, was her whispered mantra. ‘Don’t die yet’ her silent prayer. She would save them! And so she ran.

  
'Please don’t die', slice, stab, slide. 'Don’t ever leave me!'  Slip, roll, thrust. 'I will protect you'. Run, run, run! 'I will not let him touch you!'

  
“AZOG!!!!!!!” She screams as she bursts through the line of dark creatures corralling her dwarves. Her blood running cold and her feet running faster as Azog raised his mace high above his head with Fili and Kili at his feet.

When had they fallen?

Fili was draped over Kili’s head and chest trying to stand on what looked like a broken leg. Kili was unmoving with blood dripping from somewhere in his dark hair.

  
“AZOG!” She shouts one last time as she jumps towards her brothers; Sting high in her hands, Azog only laughing as he brought it down towards Fili and Kili’s heads. In that last second she was between them, her body bracing, her feet slipping and she met his mace with her sword. She felt the break in her sword arm. “You will not touch them!” she snarls at his face as his mace slips down the smooth side of her sword, imbedding itself in the muddy ground.

“You!” She twisted the blade around his forearm, cutting it deeply, making him drop his weapon  
“Will. Not” she pulls it up sharply cutting across his chest.   
“Touch.” She heaved her elbow and shoulder back and put her other arm forward, bracing her broken bones for the strength needed now.   
“THEM!” with a mighty thrust, Billa plunges Sting into the heart of the foul Gundabad Orc before her and when her hilt meets the skin of his chest, she draws the blade back and sinks it into him, again and again and again. When the deed is done and he moves no more, with his blood on her face and her palms slick with it she stands and laughs. With shoulders thrown back and head tilted she laughs her joy and rage to the sky. Her boys are safe! The Defiler is dead. And she was going absolutely mad.  
As she stops and turns to Fili and Kili, she notices it is silent; there is no clash of metal, no shouting or wailing. Fili and Kili are still behind her. Thorin, who had been lost to her vision, lay ahead, with the white warg dead at his feet and the orcs……. The orcs were staring at her.

No. They were staring past her.

But it was already too late. As she turned her shoulders to look back to Fili and Kili, he was already upon her, an orc just as pale as Azog, with his sword raised to her throat.

  
Later Gandalf would tell the tale of Bolg, the son of Azog, an orc just as fierce, who rode a warg as black as night. His greatest desire, it was told, was to kill his father and take his place.

Later didn’t do Billa any good right now.

And with the sword raised high and his large form charging, she brought Sting up one last time and though her strength was already gone she met his thrust. His strike, that should have cleaved her head in half across her lips and jaw, was turned and met her skull like a paddle. It connected and even with all her force behind the block, threw her ten feet across the field of battle to land at Thorin’s feet.

Her vision was fuzzy, her head was ringing and her right arm felt like it was about to fall off. As she pries her eyes open Thorin is at her side and Bolg is a headless heap beside him. She can feel something warm trickle into her eye but when she tries to raise her hand to wipe it away, Thorin moves as well. While she knows, she hopes, that he would never hurt her again she can’t help but flash back to a handful of hours ago when he had dropped her from the battlements. As he grabs her wrist she can’t hold back her whimper or her plea. “Don’t hurt me. Don’t kill me. I’m sorry Thorin.” and with her ears ringing and vision blacking she cannot see as the great King’s eyes fill with tears nor feel his hand stroke her hair back. She cannot see the company gathering around her, holding each other close as they shatter at what their madness has brought to their burglar, and none of them cheer with their fellows as the Eagles and Beorn crush the remnants of the Orc army.

Billa knows only black.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin fights in the BotFA.

Thorin would never be sure when the gold madness had faded. He knew it was during the battle, but slaying that many orcs tends to run together in a hazy, blood tinted sort of way. All he knew was that one moment he was in Erebor, counting his gold, caressing emeralds the size of a babe and then he saw the Arkenstone glittering in the hands of that  **grubby, petty, WORM of a man. ‘Damn that bowman and damn his burglar!’**

‘And there was another dead orc. That one had an arrow through his eye; Kili is on fine form today. Good for him. Wait? Damn who, now? Why would he ever, ever think that of Billa? She had saved his life. She had freed him from the dungeons of the Elvenking. She had…….’

**‘SHE HAD STOLEN HIS ARKENSTONE! DAMN THAT BURGLAR!’**

‘And he had sought retribution, he had…. Oh Mahal….. Had tried to kill her!’

**‘She deserved it, that worthless harlot of a hobbit with**  her easy smiles and blinding optimism...’

Between beheading an orc and skewering a warg through the throat he knew that his burglar, Billa Baggins, caused him to smile, even now in the middle of all this carnage, during a battle that he had a very, very large part in causing. But still the thought of a smile from the Hobbit lass made his heart flutter. Or was he seizing?

‘Must think on it again later, after all the orcs were dead, after Azog was dead.’

 

Azog, he could see him through the fray, granted he was sitting on a six foot warg and was another four feet of shoulder and torso, not very hard to spot, and he was coming straight toward him. Azog jumped from his warg and smirked at him, Thorin felt a deep seated fear for Azog was not after the King. Azog was walking towards Fili and Kili. 

 

‘Mahal no, please not Fili and Kili!’

 

“Fili, Kili! RUN” but his shout distracted him, even as it alerted his nephews and that damnable warg was on him, trying to snap him up in its jaws, again. Even as the white beast tried, Thorin knew he could not lose, not while Azog thirsted for his sister-sons heads. Azog would not take anyone else from Thorin. Not while he still drew breath. And with a mighty heave, Thorin Oakenshield caught the muzzle of the White Warg as it attempted to close over his head and neck. He pushed and he shoved as the beast tried to find purchase for its claws in his flesh. With one hand curled around its snout and another closed around its bottom teeth the King Under the Mountain gave a thunderous roar and twisted the beasts head to the side until he heard its wretched spine snap.  The White Warg fell limp, never to hunt the Line of Durin again. Thorin did not take time to celebrate, ‘Please be alright, my dear boys.’

Before Thorin can take a step towards Fili and Kili who lay before the Pale Orc, when had they fallen? He saw her, their Burglar, burst through the lines of dark creatures around them. She sprinted for his nephews and without hesitation, raised her letter opener to meet Azog’s mace as he brought it towards his nephews’ skulls. He cannot hear the words her lips are forming. But as she moves to loose Azog’s weapon from his grip, he hears her battle cry.

**“** YOU WILL NOT TOUCH THEM!” and with her shout he watches her stab the Orc through his throat, again and again and again. Then he watches her laugh, a dark, hysterical sound that bubbles from deep in her gut and causes her to shake. Is this what he caused to happen to the small Shire lass? Had his adventure reforged her from a plowshare, to a sword?

“Billa” he shouts to her, “Billa!” she must have heard him for she stops and looks around herself. She seems so lost to his eyes, covered in blood and exhausted, so far from the green fields of her home. He opens his mouth again but his words stick in throat, his attention is drawn to a figure racing through the ranks behind Billa and his boys. An orc as pale as Azog, though not as large nor covered in as many scars. The Orc’s sword is raised high and his target is clear and before Thorin can begin running, he is upon her. The orc brings his sword around to make quick work of removing the Halfling’s head from her shoulders and she raises her blade up to meet it and with a great clang that shakes Thorin to his bones, he watches her fly from the force of the blow. Thankfully her head is still attached, but he can see the blood on her face and her eyes stay closed at her landing point several feet away.

Before the thing can reach Billa again, he’s upon it, for so intent was it on her that it never once saw the great King coming. Thorin wrested its head from its shoulders with one great cleave of Orcrist. ‘The goblin-cleaver indeed’.

As the foul creatures head settles on the ground, Fili and Kili cry out “The Eagles, Uncle! The Eagles have come!” and Thorin can see that the Eagles of Manwe are grabbing enemies from the field of battle and dropping them on others, even Beorn has come and is chewing his way through the ranks. These final allies and the death of their general, Azog, have caused the assembled Orcs to panic and begin to flee. They start to scatter and the Elves blow their hunting horns and ride from the archers point near the Ravenhill. It seems Thranduil means to give chase, good for him. Thorin has more important things to attend to, like his nephews, his company and his burglar.

Kili’s face is half covered in blood and his brother is draped over his shoulder to help him walk towards Billa, where Thorin is kneeling. He can’t help but feel guilt that his nephews have escaped nearly unscathed, while Billa lays before him unconscious in the mud. He can see the small body is still drawing breath and Dwalin and Balin have also found their way to his side again. Balin kneels down opposite of Thorin, leaning over to put an ear to Billa’s chest, while Dwalin begins to signal to other members of the company. Thorin knows he should make Fili and Kili leave for the healing tents and even he must rest, for his head is ringing and his legs feel unsteady but he makes no move to rise and does not make them leave. First, he must see who would come to their King’s side, who would still be on their feet, who would still be breathing. After that would be the time for healing and the time for searching for those who did not, could not come.

 “Uncle” Kili asks from over his shoulder “is she alright?” When he moves to inspect Billa’s head wound, she groans and blinks her eyes. She looks wooly headed, as if she had a night with too much mead and when her eyes meet Thorin’s he is sure she isn’t actually seeing him.

“Uncle” Kili whispers again, seeing Billa’s hands move towards her hair, possibly due to the blood dripping in her eyes, “she’s going to….”

“I see Kili.” And Thorin’s voice is a soothing rumble, the same voice he used on his sick nephews or a skittish pony, and he grabs her wrist to stop the motion. She whimpers.

Thorin hears it plain as day and if he can, then Balin and Dwalin can. The sharp intake of air behind him means Fili and Kili hear it as well. And as Thorin brings his eyes to meet Balin’s, he can see the Ri brothers and Ur family, who have just wandered up none looking too worse for wear, must have heard it too or their eyes would not be so full of concern nor their frowns so deep.

And quietly she whispers “Don’t hurt me. Don’t kill me. I’m sorry Thorin.” And just like the whimper they all hear her plea. And Thorin remembers. They all remember. ‘Dear Mahal, what have they done? What has he done?’ And on the battlefield the King Under the Mountain gathers the small body in his arms and weeps.

“Billa, I am so sorry.” And though he whispers it every step towards the healers’ tents, she does not hear him and though the Company follows him there in stony silence, she does not wake. All they can say is “What have we done? Mahal save us, what have we done?” and they cry for what their madness has wrought.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil takes charge of the hobbit. While Dain and Thorin discuss the future of the traitor of Erebor.

** Chapter 7 **

Thranduil had taken Billa from his arms as soon as he entered the Healers tents and even though the Elvenking had a bandage around his own arm, he insisted on treating Billa himself, in his own tent. Thorin would have killed him had he not been so grateful. Thranduil had cared little for his gratitude, responding with the heated remark of “How dare he imply that her healing was for Thorin’s sake and not because she was an elf friend, a great warrior and the only person with wisdom in his entire damnable company.” No, Thranduil had made his opinion very well known. Now all Thorin could do was wait. While Thranduil’s guards would not let him in the tent they could not remove Thorin from his perch across the path, nor could his own company convince the new mountain King to move. But they were dwarrows and were just as persistent in trying as their King was stubborn to stay.

“You know you can’t hover here all day?” it was Dwalin and Balin who were trying to coerce him now.

 “I think you’ll find Dwalin, that I am King and can do what I wish.”

“You are right Thorin” placated Balin “you are King now.” Thorin turned to Balin, there was no way he was making it this easy. “And as King you should be meeting with Dain and finishing agreements with Bard and the Laketown men.”

 Of course, Balin pulls the responsibility card. Fili and Kili had only tried puppy eyes, which Thorin had grown immune to decades ago.  “I cannot leave her. Even if I cannot see her, I cannot just leave it like this.” Thorin wiped his hand over his eyes, hoping to ease some of his weariness.

“And you think we can?” growled Dwalin, “Do you think the rest of us will not also seek amends? That we do not burn with shame at our actions and fight the urge to shear our beards?” Balin nodded in agreement with his younger brother and added “Waiting here and worrying will do us no good. We have a mountain to rebuild now. Let us wait until she regains consciousness to start our rebuilding with Billa.”

Thorin sighed, he knew he had lost, and acquiesced to his duties with one condition. “I will attend to all that needs doing, but one of the Company must be posted here at all times. I would have word of when our Burglar wakes, or if she will not.” And though it was a grim qualifier, the sons of Fundin knew that head wounds were tricky and hobbit heads were not as strong as theirs. No healer had been able to give them an idea of what would await them if, when, Billa woke. They could only hope and keep watch.

 “We will have Bofur take watch until evening” supplied Balin “and Nori will take the night shift and perhaps he can procure more information in the cloak of darkness.”

“Agreed.” said Thorin, “What’s next?”

 “We meet with Lord Dain, my King, if you are ready?”

 “Lead on Balin.” The King Under the Mountain left his post with Balin at his side and Dwalin guarding both their backs, there was work to do.

* * *

 

“I am glad that you could meet with me Cousin.” Dain greeted when Thorin and Balin were ushered into his tent, Dwalin staying outside with Dain’s guards, “I worried that you were wounded when I did not see you after the battle.”

“My apologies Dain” Thorin’s voice was gruff and tired “I had to see to my Sister-sons and the rest of my company. Though I am unwounded, not all were so lucky.” In fact most of them had minor injuries of some kind. Fili had a broken leg, Kili needed stitches on his back, Dwalin lost part of an ear and Dori was currently laid up with a bad thigh wound. Oin and Gloin had stayed with the healers through the fighting and were exhausted. Bifur escaped without a scratch but Bombur had lost some teeth and Bofur had broken his ankle when he fell in a hole. But Billa was the only one who had not walked from the battlefield.

“I can understand the need to reassure yourself of their safety.” Thorin noted how Dain paused, though he would not have noticed his Cousin’s uncertainty had they not known each other so well, “Especially after the journey you have had. I had hoped you would reach the mountain much sooner and worried when no word came after the fourth month.” “It was a very long journey Dain and none of it was smooth traveling.” “I would like to hear your tale. Perhaps over supper? Then we can turn to the restoration of your mountain.” “That would be most welcome, Cousin. Balin can supply where my memory fails.” The occupants of the tent settled deeper into their chairs. It was going to be the first of many late nights.

 

* * *

 

Billa woke to a warm bed with soft sheets and a candle flickering on her bedside table. But the tent she was under was large and unfamiliar and there were curtains pulled to interrupt her view of whatever was not next to her bedside. She must have been lying still for ages for her muscles were quite cramped and as she moved to stretch them out a pain laced through her torso, her head and arm; paralyzing her. Her pain and movement must have caused some noise to occur for she found her curtains drawn back to reveal Thranduil, clad only in brown leather breeches and a green tunic with a bandage on his upper arm,  he seemed surprised to see her.

“Ah, Miss Baggins” he sighed “I am glad you have chosen to wake. We were becoming quite worried.” And here he gestured behind himself where Billa saw Gandalf and Bard sitting at a table that was strewn with papers and inkwells. Legolas and Tauriel were both standing near the tent flaps.

“What” asked Billa, but her throat was dry and her words caught in her throat. Thranduil offered her a goblet of cool water and held her head up so she may drink, for she did not have the strength to do it herself, and while it was embarrassing to be helped in such a way, she was far too grateful to cause a fuss. “What” tried Billa again, finding the words came easier “happened?” Instead of answering her the occupants of the tent shared uneasy glances, when the silence started to stretch too far Gandalf spoke. “What is the last thing you remember, Billa?”

“Well” she hesitated “I remember that we were to take back Erebor and we left Bard and the men of the Lake on Durin’s day. We found the doorway and……… Oh Eru! Smaug! I woke up Smaug and he went to burn Laketown and” her eyes found Bard’s “please tell me they are alright? Sigrid, Tilda and Bain? They must be alright!” Billa started to sob into her hands.

“Please Billa” Bard crossed the room to grab her shoulders “be calm. They are alright. Smaug is slain by my hand and though Laketown took much damage there were few casualties. We were very lucky that night.” And here Bard paused to look up at Thranduil, who was still perched at her bedside “Do you remember nothing else? From after waking the dragon?”

“I know that we spent days in the mountain, and we searched for the Arkenstone. We searched and searched and” her breath hitched “Thorin would not let us stop for anything and no one would listen to me!” the hitches in her breath turned to gasping “They were mad. All of them!” her moist eyes turned to Thranduil. “You marched on the mountain! You demanded recompense, all of you.” She accused even Bard. “And I gave it to you. And Thorin…. Thorin, he…..” and she could not fight it anymore, the feelings she hadn’t known she was dreading, the phantom feeling of the wind rushing past her ears as Thorin watched her fall. Her gasping turned to howls of pain and sadness and no matter how they tried the occupants of the tent could not soothe her. When she began to thrash Thranduil asked Bard to hold her shoulders tight so he could coax a draught for deep sleep down her throat, and slowly her howling turned to whimpers and even those petered out eventually as the Hobbit fell into a deep sleep.

While Billa lay drifting off, none in the tent dared to break the silence until half a candle mark had passed without the Hobbit making so much as a twitch. It was Legolas who broke first. “What in Arda just happened?” he seemed distraught, for he was still a young elf and he had never seen such a spectacle before. “Hobbits” Gandalf started “are a very emotional race, though they try to hide it with manners. They feel many things keenly and I have noted that head wounds tend to make them rather” he shook his hands in a vague sort of gesture “unbalanced, in their emotions. At least for a time.” Thranduil started before the wizard could go off again. “Her head wound is quite severe. I am surprised she woke so soon and having unkempt emotions is a small price to pay.” Bard brightened as he asked “So she will be alright? She will recover?” Thranduil shared a look with the Grey Wizard, who only shrugged. “More symptoms may surface, short term memory loss, minor deterioration of motor skills, lingering headaches and light sensitivity but she will live and stay living and that is enough for now.” Bard, Tauriel and Legolas all let loose a sigh of relief, Billa had survived the battle and she would be all right. They would make it so.

So the night passed into the early morn as a dwarf with tri-peaked hair took leave from his watch to take his news to his King. Their burglar was awake, battered and bruised and maybe a little a broken but she was awake. The rest was up to them.

* * *

 

“And when the sun had set, I was so certain that we had gotten it wrong! That after everything we would go back to Ered Luin with nothing but shame at our heels but before we could make it more than a dozen paces from the ledge, Billa started making a ruckus. And I tell you Dain, never had I been happier to be called a rock headed dwarf! When we got back to the top, she was just standing there, key in the key hole as prim as you please and she had the audacity to welcome me back to my own mountain!” Dain guffawed loudly and his ale sloshed with his mirth “I see her sharp tongue is a constant companion then! I had wondered if she was so fierce all the time.”

“Oh Dain,” if Thorin looked wistful Dain refused to comment “She is always very fierce and brave and” the King’s voice hitched only slightly “unwaveringly loyal.” An awkward silence descended on the tent as the cousins busied themselves with plates and cups and shortly Thorin regained the threads of his story. “We gave Smaug a merry chase you know. The forges are a mess. There are bones everywhere, but the gold Dain, there are mountains of it. I had forgotten how rich we were,” Thorin gazed warmly at Dain across the table “How rich our people will be again.” The two grew quiet as they contemplated all their victory would mean to their people. Of the warm beds and bountiful food it would buy. How they would be master smiths again with a great legacy and a good home.

“What will you do with the Hobbit?” it was a whisper, as if Dain knew what the answer might cost Thorin. Thorin deliberated his answer, knowing that the wrong words would condemn Billa, “She is a hero, Dain.” Dain began to bluster and stutter “She is a traitor.” and Thorin shook his head again and again at each of Dain’s, increasingly louder, accusations. “She is a traitor who deserved the punishment given!”

Thorin shot to his feet, knocking his chair over in his haste. “SHE IS A HERO, DAIN!” he slammed his hands to the table “She saved us. All of us! She did everything in her power to make us, to make me, see sense. And in the end she gave up EVERYTHING so that my Company and I might live.” Thorin collapsed in his chair, his shoulders heaving from the breath he had used shouting and Dain just stood there mouth agape, blindsided by his stoic cousin’s passion. “You were not there Dain.” Thorin said to the tabletop. “I was consumed by the madness. We all were. Most of my memories are still hazy and tinted with greed and anger, but I remember different moments when Billa had sought me out.” Thorin raised his eyes to Dain’s face, his brow was drawn and his frown deep “She started asking when we would start the restoration, then as time passed asked if we could go back to Laketown and trade for food. Not once did she ask for her share, not once did she forget our greater goal. And not once did I listen to her.” Thorin’s face showed his self-loathing “She did everything in her power to get me to honor my agreement to the Men. I had promised them rivers of gold and prosperity for their people but I was so lost to the gold, I had forgotten even my own people. I turned away a town who had been displaced by dragon fire and offered them nothing in recompense. I was committing the same act of treason Thranduil had committed over a century ago.  If I had ignored them they would have turned on you and your men and there would have been a slaughter, 500 dwarrows are no match for an army of men and the Elves of Mirkwood.” Thorin’s speech in defense of his burglar was impassioned like Dain had never seen, and indeed the King’s younger cousin was dumbstruck as he fell back into his chair. “Do you not see Dain?” Thorin was almost pleading now, as he righted his own chair to settle again “She fought against my darkest nature for the King she always said I would be. She fought for my very soul, like Mahal fought for our creation. She saved me.”

Silence stretched between the rulers, and neither seemed to ready to break it. Dain was contemplating all he had heard over the last day and Thorin was lost to his regrets and plans for tomorrow. Dain must have puzzled out the answer to his thoughts for he tentatively began “If all you say is true, maybe Thranduil was right.” he put a hand up to stall Thorin’s inevitable protests about anything the Elvenking had to say being right, “Before the battle he told me that Miss Baggins’ actions were fueled by her maternal heart and, like children, we would be unable to see beyond our hurt to the wisdom of her actions until we had grown older. And after a battle like today’s I feel much older indeed.”

“Perhaps in this the Elvenking is correct.” Thorin agreed “Billa fought bravely, loves fiercely and has always cared for us in any way we needed. If those are not the greatest traits of a mother, I don’t know what is.” “Yes” laughed Dain, “the first mother in our mountain is a fierce thing indeed.”

And if Nori was surprised to find both rulers slightly tipsy with the candles burned low, toasting the love of their own mothers, he hid it well. Instead he clutched the stitch in his side and gasped “Thorin, she’s awake.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billa finally gets to speak her mind.

** Chapter Eight **

When Nori had run into the tent Thorin’s heart had stopped, but when the thief gasped out that Billa was awake, well, Thorin hadn’t smiled so widely since Kili was born. His smile had faded quickly upon finding out that Thranduil, Bard and Gandalf had no intention of letting the Company see their Burglar, not even if they intended to “grovel like the mangy wargs, they were”. Not even Thorin reducing himself to near pleading could sway Gandalf. The Grey Wizard would only tell them that while Billa was awake, she was not yet well and “may never be well enough to confront the like of them again, no matter how much they wished to make things right”. So they were back to waiting and watching and scheming. They took their time, switching shifts every six hours, sometimes even doing it in pairs, and before two days had passed they had agreed upon a plan to get a select few in to see their Hobbit. The plan was so perfect that only Fili and Kili could have come up with it, which they had, which was also why it was possibly the worst plan ever.

Three days after the battle Thorin called a conference of the men, elves and dwarves to discuss compensations and rewards. While he, Balin, Dwalin and Gloin sat to engage in a long and arduous conversation, Nori was slipping Thranduil’s evening guards some wine specially prepared by Oin. Thirty minutes later the guards were propped against barrels and Ori, Kili, Bofur and Nori were slipping into the Elvenking's tent.

The sight that greeted the four dwarves was a good one, a candle flickering on the large table in the center, show partially drawn curtains hiding a cot in the corner. The keen eyes of the dwarves could just make out the form of a small, sleeping hobbit lass with copper curls splayed on a large pillow. Bofur nearly cried at seeing their burglar whole and breathing and all four of them rushed to her bedside. They didn’t see the evidence of the battle until the curtains were drawn back completely. Billa’s head was wrapped in a thick swathe of white bandages and her right arm was splinted at her side, with the covers pulled to her chest they could not tell if she had come to further harm or not. But she was breathing and she was only sleeping so the quartet’s hopes held.  Now they just had to decide how to wake her up.

“You should do it Nori, you’re the sneakiest.” Started Kili

“No way, you remember what it was like getting her up? She’s only going to be grumpier now.” Nori was right and as Bofur nodded his agreement with the thief he found his three companions gazes coming to rest on him.

“Oh, no.” squeaked Bofur “You all must be daft! To think I’d wake her?” but their gazes did not relent and with only a little more prodding Bofur stepped up to the head of the cot and girded himself. Billa was NOT a morning type of Hobbit.

“Billa.” He started whispering in her ear “Billa. Wake up now.” He started to jostle her shoulder slightly and after only a few moments, she groaned and mumbled something, though they could only make out the words “no” and “please”. With each ensuing groan, grumble and twitch they were getting more and more excited, once Billa was awake they would be able to tell her how sorry they were and she could come back and be with the Company again. But when Billa’s eyes finally fluttered they were not greeted as they had hoped, for when she opened her eyes and saw who was standing over her instead of the tearful reunion they had wanted they were greeted with an ear splitting scream.

* * *

 

Though the meeting was making good progress (they had already made trade agreements for winter with both the Iron Hills and the Elves to see both Erebor and Laketown through the winter) Thorin could not help but wonder how the real task was going.  So when an ear splitting shriek interrupted the discussion of compensation for Laketown, Thorin couldn’t help but follow Thranduil, Bard and Gandalf as they made their way from the meeting tent towards that of the Elvenking.

* * *

 

Gandalf knew there would be complications from Billa’s head wound; indeed they had faced several of them already. When she woke up two evenings ago she had recalled the battle with great clarity, but every time she woke up she seemed to forget that she had already woken up before. Her nightmares were not surprising either and Gandalf had spent that last two nights sitting at Billa’s bedside smoking a pipe of Old Toby and stroking her hair. But the sleeping draught Thranduil had administered before their meeting should have kept her peacefully asleep until late morning. So when he heard the scream from his Hobbit halfway through the meeting he knew that something, more like some ones, had disturbed Billa’s sleep and from the hurried way the present members of Thorin’s company followed himself, Bard and Thranduil from the tent Gandalf had a very good idea of who he was going to be maiming this evening. And hearing Billa let loose a loud cry of “GANDALF!” made the wizard abandon any thoughts of dignity and instead run through camp. Maybe death would be a better punishment?

* * *

 

Billa was in a dark place filled with voices whispering vile things; hands stroked her hair and jostled her shoulders. “Wake up, Billa.” “None could love you.” “Come on, Billa.” ”This is how we treat traitors!” Then she was falling and bearded faces blurred past and her hands were covered in blood, but still she fell and the ground was rushing to meet her but she could not move her arms and her head ached and – Her eyes opened and standing above her were four faces, and they were the same from her dreams and they were so close, too close. Billa didn’t even try to hold back her scream.

When Billa first started screaming the dwarves were sure it was a nightmare, surely Billa had just had a bad dream and was merely reacting to it? But when she didn’t stop screaming despite their shushing and reassuring croons they figured she needed more assurance and so like he had done thousands of times for a distressed Bifur, Bofur moved to hold her to his chest. None of them expected Billa to react the way she did. She fought him. She struggled in his arms screaming all the while and once she realized that his grip was too strong, instead of relaxing into the comfort of a friends arms she started shouting, “GANDALF! GANDALF! PLEASE, HELP!” Finally it hit Bofur, Kili, Ori and Nori that perhaps they were Billa’s nightmare and before Bofur let her go or the other dwarves backed away from her bedside the tent flaps were thrown open by the most enraged wizard Middle Earth had ever seen.

“How dare you touch her?” Gandalf voice was not loud, but it was dark and rumbling, “Did I not say that you could not see her? Do you think you have more wisdom than a Maiar and a millennial aged Elf?” Gandalf scooped Billa into his arms allowing her to bury her face in his shoulder as the rest of the party entered the tent.

“What happened?” asked Thranduil when he stormed in and saw Billa crying in Gandalf’s arms. “What are you doing in here?” he glowered at the trespassers “Answer me!” he shouted when the four dwarves held their silence, the shameful look they cast at the ground was not enough, he wanted to hear it.

“We just wanted to-” started Kili, “I told them to check on her, by any means necessary.” interrupted Thorin.

“Why in the world did you think this was a good idea?” asked Gandalf “Did you not listen when I said she was not well?” and with Billa still sobbing in the wizard’s arms, Thorin could easily tell that Billa was definitely not well. “How else were we supposed to apologize?” thundered Thorin, “when you will not let us see her, nor tell us how she is doing? Of course we snuck in! She is our burglar! Our hobbit! And we have the right-” “No!” sobbed Billa from Gandalf’s chest “NO you don’t Master Dwarf, you have NO RIGHT to- to come in here and- and do anything.”

“Billa, please.”

“YOU THREW ME AWAY!” and here the hobbit gave a great sob “You literally threw me away and you said I wasn’t your family!”

“Billa, we’re so sor-“

“None of you stopped him!” her accusing glare turned to the rest of the gathered Company for Balin, Dwalin and Gloin had followed their King from the meeting. “None of you even cared!”

“Billa” Thorin finally stepped further into the tent “you cannot know how very sorry we are, how sorry I am. We were infected with the gold madness, driven to insanity by it, but we are better now. We only wish you to know how sorry we are and how grateful we are that you took the Arkenstone and saved us all.”

No one dared to speak after Thorin’s apology; some (read Kili, Ori, Nori, Bofur, Gloin, Dwalin, Balin and Thorin) were hoping that Billa would accept the apology, while Thranduil, Bard and Gandalf knew that this would not even begin to heal Billa’s heart.

“You are better now?” queried Billa, as she wiggled from Gandalf’s embrace.

 “Yes, Billa I swear it on the mountain, none of the Company remain under the spell of the gold.”

“For now.” Billa replied coolly, as she stepped up to face her former companions for the first time in days. “You mean to say that you are free of it for now. But what happens when you go back to the mountain? What happens when Bard gives back the Arkenstone?” she pushed her finger at his chest, her eyes blazing with anger and tears, “Would you throw me away a second time? Will you kill me again?” Billa’s voice was rising in volume with every word and her hands started shaking, “Billa, please you must remain calm” Gandalf tried to soothe her “you are not yet well.”

“I am well enough for this!” she snapped back “My family is dead.” She shouted it in Thorin’s face “They died reclaiming Erebor.” Billa unraveled her training braid and yanked out the bead that marked her as a scholar “There is no one left to love me!” she threw the bead at Thorin’s bewildered face and collapsed  to the tent floor, sobbing and gasping.

It took the combined glower of Bard and forceful shoves from Gandalf to evict them all, while Thranduil took Billa back to her cot.

 “That did not go well.” Kili muttered as they stomped back to Thorin’s tent to discuss the day. “No, Kili, it did not.” Thorin stated the obvious, “I’m not sure this will ever be ok.” Through the rest of the night the Company of thirteen dwarves sat and contemplated just how broken their burglar was and how they could re-forge bonds they had so shamefully broken. If any of them noticed Thorin slip a gold bead next to the key of Erebor on his neck, they were too kind to mention it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is what the coat looks like, wrong color but still its a cool coat! https://img0.etsystatic.com/000/0/6133188/il_570xN.201734888.jpg

** Chapter Nine **

“Dori, what are you doing?” Ori had returned to the tent he shared with his brothers expecting the eldest to be asleep and Nori out doing whatever it was he did, not inspecting a lump of blue cloth. “I am making a coat, Ori.” Usually Dori went on and on about new commissions, the pattern he had chosen and the embroidery that would cover it but when Ori had washed his face and the ink stains from his hands and still Dori did not elaborate he couldn’t help but be curious. “Well, who is it for?” and though Dori did not cease his motions he seemed very reluctant to answer. Was it a courting gift?

“It’s for Billa.” Dori answered quietly as he turned the work over “I promised to make her one."

“But- but” Ori’s thoughts were rushing out of his mouth “She talked to you? When did you talk to her? What did she say?”

“ORI!” Dori brought his brothers sputtering to a halt, “I promised her in Mirkwood, in the dungeons. She said sleeping without us made her cold and that she hated the memories it brought her. I told her” Dori sniffled slightly “that when we re-took Erebor, I would make her a coat so she would never feel the cold in her new home. I told her that family looks after one another and I would be a poor Dwarf indeed to let my Kin freeze.”

“It’ll be alright Dori.” But regardless of how Ori soothed him after his confession, he could not stop the tears falling from his oldest brothers eyes and long after he had helped Dori to bed he fingered the hem of the coat and wondered if he was having a brilliant idea or a fool’s hope.

Ori had to wait till morning to put his plan into action, trading for some parchment from the Elves and begging some binding material off of Dori to make his present. While his days were filled with work, being a royal scribe was an honor but being the ONLY royal scribe of Erebor was exhausting, the few hours he could get alone were spent writing in this red leather book. He filled it with pictures and words of deeds long past and well loved. He wrote down the greatest tales of love and crafting he knew and when it was finally finished he wrapped it in a knitted blanket and headed for the Elvenking’s tent.

“Excuse me Ma’am,” the red headed elf, Tauriel, was on guard duty when Ori mustered his courage to give Billa the present, “I have a parcel here for Miss Baggins.” He drew it out from behind his back and handed it to the Captain, “Would you mind passing it on?”

 “Master Dwarf,” the elf stopped Ori before he could leave, eyeing the parcel suspiciously “What is it?”

“In Rivendell I told Billa I would give her all our greatest tale. Our lore shapes us greatly and I wanted her to share in our making.” If Tauriel was surprised by his explanation she did not show it, instead she sketched a short bow and turned into the tent.

 

* * *

 

“So my dear, what do you plan do to about all these gifts?” Gandalf’s eyes held a slight twinkling as he looked at the overwhelmed Hobbit and her packages.

“I have no idea Gandalf.” Billa could only stare at the small pile of parcels that had been delivered to her tent over the last few days. Ori had come two mornings prior with a knit-wrapped square, Dori in the evening with a blue bundle, Bofur with a small, hinged, box of wood and Bombur had begun delivering her meals. “I believe Billa that presents are meant to be opened.” “Well” sniffed Billa “I should at least know what exactly I am refusing.”

As the knit cover fell from the square from Ori revealing the red embossed with gold, she gasped. “Oh my! It’s full of stories! The Seven Fathers, the Great Forging, the Love of Beryl and Buthrie.” Billa shot Gandalf a sad smile “Ori always said he would translate their greatest tales from Khuzdul, so I could read them no matter where my feet went.” Billa didn’t hide her misty eyes as she handed the book to Gandalf, exchanging it for the blue lump from Dori.

The lump unfolded into a coat, a magnificent blue coat lined with white fur with small white, forget-me-nots embroidered across it. Billa could not resist putting it on and marveling in the softness and fit. How had Dori known her size? Where had he gotten the fabric or the time? Billa knew he was spending his days organizing things for the restoration and doing Guild planning, why would he spend time on this? “Oh Dori, you silly old fool.” and now her tears were gathering on her lashes and she could barely wipe them away before more took their place. She folded it carefully knowing she would be grateful for the gift in the coming weeks, winter was already coming towards the mountain. She reached for the box from Bofur next.

It was a dark wood inlaid with flat swirls of silver on the lid and sides. It had no latch but was lined with red velvet and held a beautiful wooden pipe, carved into the shape of a dragon. He rested on his back, with eyes made of ruby and the bowl gripped in hands beneath his jaw. He looked content holding the bowl like it was part of his precious hoard. The pipe's back was its spines and the tail of it twisted over the pipe stem to the tip. Billa could not hold back her watery laugh. “When we left the Shire, he told me that it was his job to teach me to smoke properly, instead of letting me choke on good tobacco like an idiot.” She couldn’t hold back her chuckles or her tears, “Why would they do this Gandalf? She set the pipe back in the box and put it on the table with the rest, “What do they expect me to do with this, forgive them?” she scoffed “They must think me an idiot to forgive their abandonment so easily!”

 “No Billa,” started Gandalf “I do not think they expect you to forgive them. I think they want you to let them try. Ah ah a!” Gandalf shushed Billa as she surged to feet “These dwarves have grievously wronged you, they betrayed the trust and love that you put in their hands and deserve whatever life hands them. But I find that even when family hurts us gravely; we still wish to have their love and companionship. You will always find yourself wishing that they had never hurt you, maybe wishing that you had never met them, but you have met them and they have hurt you and no matter how you wish it you will carry those scars upon your heart. I’m not saying you should forgive them or trust them. But perhaps you can let them prove, even if only to themselves, that they are free of the madness and good people once again. Because you love them as your Family, I say you should, perhaps, let them try.”

It would take many more days as Billa thought on Gandalf’s words but two weeks later when the first snow fell on the Lonely Mountain, Billa walked out of her tent in a fine blue coat and that evening sat with Gandalf to smoke on a pipe shaped like a dragon.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amadel - Mother of all mothers
> 
> Amadith - little mother
> 
> Deed name - a title bestowed on someone to show their great actions in a battle i.e. Oakenshield or Ironfoot.

**Chapter Ten**

Thorin had never been so tired, not after fleeing Smaug, not while working constantly to build a life in Ered Luin and even on the quest back to Erebor he had gotten better rest. There was so much to do, rebuibling and restoration was a job numbered in years, decades even, and with so few dwarrows to do the work and so many injured, it made for even more work. Thank Mahal for the Company, he would accomplish nothing without them. Balin and Dwalin kept their original posts as advisor and King’s guard respectively while Dori and Gloin were orgainizing the guilds and restoration. Fili was still bedbound but was holding meetings in his tent to oversee their supply use and winter rationing and Kili was doing the rest of the Heir’s duties, mostly going to meetings with Thorin. Oin was still in the healing tents and would be until there were no patients left. Bofur and Bifur were inspecting the intergrity of Erebor’s walkways, halls and rooms to help direct their efforts for creating habitable space. Ori was stuck writing transcripts and trade agreements all day while Bombur cooked and arranged hunting parties to keep the camp fed. Nori had taken over all the duties of Spymaster which currently included updates on Billa’s condition and movement, if Thorin could stay awake until their meeting time. Why Nori insisted on giving his reports at so-late-it’s-early o’clock, Thorin would never know. When Thorin finally decided to put his head on his desk and give up waiting, Nori stepped from the shadows in the corner.

“I have very interesting news for you, Highness.” Nori took his time pouring some ale and selecting food from the ever full platter kept on Thorin’s table. “Billa left her tent yesterday.”

 “She’s walking? Did she look pale? How is her wound?” Thorin couldn’t contain his questions, for news of their burglar was sparse while she was confined to the Elvenking’s tent.

 “Easy there Majesty let me finish.” Thorin was sure Nori sipped his ale slowly just to torture him. “She looked good all things considered, her arm is still in a sling but the bandage on her head was gone. She was pale though and only walked to the cook tent and back before the elf prince made her lay down again.” Billa was well and healing and, oh Mahal, if that wasn’t the best news he had heard all week.

“That’s not the important part though” continued the Spy “those Iron Hill dwarrows are extremely interested in our Halfling.” Thorin’s brows creased his forehead, “Is she in danger? I thought Dain and I had taken care of any possible hostilities over the Arkenstone?” Dain and he had spent hours that first night talking through Billa’s actions and the possible repercussions to both Billa and his throne. They had hoped to correct the story by spreading all the facts of Billa’s lengths to protect the company and her bravery in making the right choice when it was so hard to do so.

“Oh don’t worry your kingly head about it Thorin, none of their interest was hostile or even negative, they called her Amadel and Amadith.” Oh….. OH! Well, Thorin was happy to see their plan succeed, but Amadel?  That seems a bit, grand.

 “It seems they have taken your tale and words to heart, in regards to our Burglar.” No matter how Thorin scowled the rest of his report, Nori would not stop smirking.

It was two days after Nori’s report that Thorin heard the “ **Amadel** ” business again. When, while speaking of Thorin’s upcoming coronation, one of Dain’s advisors asked if the  **Amadith**  would be there to receive her Deed Name.  “The who?” asked Balin sharing a confused look with Gloin while Thorin steadfastly refused to meet his eyes.

“The  **Amadel.”**  when Balin’s look didn’t change Dain’s advisor looked at him like he was impaired “the Hobbit woman of your company. The soldiers are quite taken with her bravery during the battle and her sacrifice and protectiveness of Erebor and His Majesty.”

 “Aye,” joined Dain, looking distinctly amused “I heard some of the white beards talking about it last night at the fire. They said it was destiny for a daughter of Yavanna to save the sons of Mahal, only fitting that she protects us as our Maker’s wife protects him.” Dain’s comment made his advisors give wistful sighs. “They wish to know how she will be honored for her deeds.”

“That’s preposterous” spluttered Balin knock papers askew in his haste to look at Thorin “We have no right to push such things upon Miss Baggins. She is healing both in body and heart. We cannot ask her to endure our presence, even to accept a Deed Name, no matter how much we wish to bestow it or for her to accept.”

 “That does not mean we should not ask, Master Balin.” tutted a red haired Dwarf from Dain’s left. “She has every right to refuse, but she deserves to know how grateful we are for her actions, even though they have cost her.”

“Very well,” interjected Thorin, before a squabble could erupt between his advisors and Dain’s “a representative shall be sent to convey and explain our offer to Miss Baggins.” The council agreed to send Dain to meet with Miss Baggins. Thorin didn’t envy his cousin the task set before him.

* * *

 

Billa had just finished her morning meal of porridge, with a tea to keep her head clear, when Legolas came through the tent flaps looking extremely displeased. “What has you in a tiff so early?” Billa asked while piling her dishes to take back to the cook tent, one of the few distances she had been cleared to walk while still healing.

“You have a visitor.” the Prince’s eyes shifted back to the tent flaps when she asked why they didn’t just come in like everyone else. “It’s a dwarvish visitor. Not one of those particular dwarfs.” he soothed when the blood fled her face. “It’s Lord Dain. He says he wants to talk and ask you a few questions, if you are ameniable to his prescence.”

While Billa deliberated on her answer longer than was polite with a Lord waiting she did agree to see him, if Legolas would stay. “Of course dear Billa.”

What followed was possibly the oddest conversation she had had since discussing burglaring from a furnace with wings.

“They want to give me what now?” Billa asked rubbing the bridge of her nose; she could already feel a headache forming behind her eyes.

“A Deed Name,” started Dain again “a title given to those that commit great acts in battle, typically royalty since we are more noticeable than the average soldier, Oakenshield is King Thorin’s as Ironfoot is mine. There are several members of the Company set to receive one at the upcoming coronation.”

“Yes, yes Dain” Billa flapped her hands at the dwarf lord across from her, steadfastly refusing to look at Legolas’s face, she could sense the smirk without looking “but why in the Green Fields am I to be given one? You made your opinion of my actions very clear that first day.”

Dain only shrugged at her accusation, “I did not have the entire story. I thought you were a spy or thief aiding our enemies until my cousin told me the lengths you took to protect the company and to try pull them from the madness. But I know now that you truly were protecting everyone, your Company from starvation and siege” he ignored Billa’s interjection of them not being her anything, “the men, elves and myself from the oncoming army of Orcs and goblins. We would not have survived if we hadn’t all banded together.” Billa could not help but be touched by Dain acknowledging the wisdom of her actions, “I understand now that the Arkenstone was the only thing you could have taken from the mountain to force Thorin to negotiate and though you have felt much pain from your actions my soldiers are grateful for them.”

 Dain stood to walk to Billa’s side of the table, ignoring Legolas’s glare that promised permament injury if he put one toe out of line. “My men would have all died on the battlefield had we not had allies and many would have died in the healing tents without elvish aid. You feel so much pain from Thorin’s madness that you do not see the great good your actions brought.” Dain dropped to his knees before Billa and bowed his head, “You saved countless lives my Lady and our people wish to honor you for it.”

Her eyes started to brim with tears when he gripped both her hands between his “Please do not deny us our thanks, we would have all of Arda know what you have sacrificed for us.”

 Billa couldn’t hold back her tears any longer as she collapsed into Dain’s arms, “Thank you Dain, thank you so much. I just wanted to do the right thing! I just wanted them to live.” though she spoke into his shoulder Dain could just make out her words clearly and his heart broke for the lass in his arms, “I love them so much.” Dain couldn’t stop cursing his idiot of a cousin under his breath, even when Billa had long since fallen asleep in his arms.

It was after Billa had been put to bed by strong dwarf hands that Dain turned his attention to the Greenwood Prince. “She seems to be healing well.”

“In some ways, yes.”

“Though Thorin’s spy says she only leaves the tent twice a day. Is she that afraid of us dwarrows?”

“No Lord Dain,” Legolas laughed darkly “I think Billa fears very little. But she is not completely healed yet.” The elf’s face contorted in a frown as he escorted the dwarf lord from the tent, his voice dropping to a whisper “She has nightmares that keep her from true rest, she wakes often with tears and fear in her eyes. She gets headaches that cause her great pain and keep her bedridden and she is prone to fainting spells and dizziness. My father and Gandalf are not sure if these effects are temporary or not.”

Dain’s frown had grown with every word he heard. “Surely there is something that can be done to ease her healing period.”

From the smile that grew on Legolas’s face, Dain could see he had said the magic words, “Actually Lord Dain, we did have a few ideas.” so Dain Ironfoot was brought into the shcemes of a man, two elves and wizard, for the good of the  **Amadith.**

* * *

 

 

The day after his meeting with Billa, Dain was called to attend a meeting of men, elves and dwarves. It was their second attempt to have a conference of all three races, since the first one had ended abruptly when Kili, Nori, Ori and Bofur had disrupted Billa’s sleep. Thorin had to promise that all the company would attend so Thranduil and Gandalf could be sure they weren’t up to any funny business while they were otherwise occupied. They were meeting in the mess tent, as no other could hold so many people and there was hope that Thranduil and Thorin would behave if there was a greater audience. Dain had very little hope on that matter.

“Well now,” Gandalf started off the meeting, sitting at the head of the table with dwarves on one side and elves and men on the other “with all our parties present I think we can continue our negotiations. And I hope” he cast a disapproving glare over Thorin and his company “we will not be interrupted.” Thorin actually growled at Thranduil when the Elvenking smirked at him, of course the two were sitting across from each other. Gandalf ignored them “Last time we agreed to increase trade between the Greenwood and Iron Hills for winter supplies and use the Greenwood’s water route to move shipments. This is all to be paid with the gold of Erebor and from the share given to the people of the Lake.”

“The people of Laketown would like me to pass along a message” interrupted Bard, standing from his place near Thranduil, “we are grateful for the generous payment Erebor has given us for our hospitality and would like to return something we were told to keep safe.”

Bard held a small wooden box out towards Thorin, who took it with shaking hands; “The Arkenstone?” inquired the new King. The Bowman nodded as Thorin opened the box to gaze at the flawless jewel, not noticing the scrutinizing looks from Gandalf and Thranduil.

 “It is so beautiful.” “Look at the colors!” “Mahal what a stone!” many of the attending dwarves voiced their admiration for the King’s Jewel.  

“It is very pretty,” muttered Thorin as he stroked its multifaceted face, “But it is only a jewel.” Many of the dwarves gasped in dismay as he closed the lid and stowed the box in his coat. “We have more important matters to handle to ensure we are ready for the winter.” His statement got approving murmurs from his company and a blinding smile from Gandalf. “Indeed King Thorin, let us get back to business.”

They talked for hours and hours, straight through lunch and on the cusp of dinner and there were no fights and Thorin and Thranduil had only devolved into shouting at each other in their mother tongues three times. Ori would record it as the most peaceful conference to ever be held between the two races.

 

“We do not have enough time to rebuild Laketown before winter sets in.” Bard was arguing with Dain in regards to hiring dwarves to do the rebuilding of the towns of men, “We have only weeks before the weather turns frigid and my people need shelter now.”

They had started arguing this topic three-quarters of an hour ago, when Thranduil had stated that he could not take the people of the Lake while he was fighting the infection in his own lands. The woods were barely safe for Elves, the men would be in greater danger there than anywhere else. Thorin knew what he had to do, though he was loathe to do it and knew the traditionalists would be upset with his decision.

 “You may stay with us!” he shouted over Bard’s voice as all heads turned toward him “the people of the Lake are welcome to stay in our halls for the winter. If they don’t mind helping with some of the restoration work?” Bard gave Thorin a very large grin in thanks and Gandalf looked mightily pleased as well.

“That is very kind of you.” Gandalf shuffled some parchment around trying to hide his mirth at Thorin being generous or kind. “I believe that concludes our business for today and for much of the upcoming months as well. I think we should all break for dinner knowing we have completed some very productive talks!” So everyone began to shuffle their things together and prepare to leave for their own encampment when the voice of the Elf prince rose above the din “Not yet Gandalf!” he cried “There is still one matter to attend to!”

“And what might that be Prince Legolas?”

“The matter of Miss Baggins has not been addressed.” Everyone halted. The dwarves were very curious about the fourteenth member of King Thorin’s company. There were countless stories about the lass, how she out witted trolls, fought Azog singlehanded, burgled the dwarves from Thranduil’s dungeon, but none of them had spoken to her nor seen her for more than a few minutes.

“What about Miss Baggins?” the entire company had turned at Legolas’s words and was subjecting him to looks that promised pain,

 “What have you done to her!” thundered the mountain King. “I knew you could not be truste-”

“Thorin Oakenshield!” Gandalf slapped both his palms on the table, silencing the dwarf, “Let Legolas speak!”

“Where is she going to stay?” his question was met with gaping mouths and raised brows.

 “What do you mean, where will she stay?” inquired Balin “She is staying with your father at the moment is she not?”

“Indeed the hobbit is in my tent,” Thranduil gazed coolly across the table, “but we are asking where she will be staying for the winter.”

“Is she not welcome in you kingdom?” asked Thorin, would the elves cast out their burglar as they had done?

“Miss Baggins, is most welcome in the Greenwood” he snarled back “but it is not currently the Greenwood, is it? For as long as the forest is infected with the presence of darkness the hobbit will not be able to stay there.”

“Why in the world not?” Bofur threw his arms in the air “she’s already been there once!”

“And put herself in great peril by doing so! She is a hobbit, Master Dwarf, and like you can sense the stone, she can sense the earth around her. In her current condition staying in the infected Greenwood would only be a hindrance to her healing and I will not have all my work undone!” the blonde elf sat back, if he was a younger elf witnesses would have said he was pouting.

“We will send her home then.” reasoned Balin “There are two months before the mountain paths close, plenty of time for her to reach Rivendell and she may continue to the Shire come spring.” Though none of the company looked pleased by this information they all agreed, Billa deserved to be happy and if they could not make her happy then the Shire would.

No one expected Dain to stay for the conversation, let alone have an opinion, “She can’t!” he shouted, pointing at Gandalf “You said so before the battle.”

“Lord Dain is quite right.” Gandalf cut off incredulous shouts of Khuzdul and Sindarian, “Billa Baggins cannot return to the Shire.”

“You had best explain this Wizard.” Thorin was truly angry now and even Ori was glaring at the Isatri with anger in his eyes. How dare he try and keep Billa from her beloved Bag End!

“Please sit,” gesturing everyone back to their seats Gandalf heaved a great sigh to begin his tale. “As many of you know, hobbits believe that being respectable is very important and social standing in their society is determined by how respectable one is.”

The company was very aware of Miss Baggins and her respectableness; blushing whenever one of them so much as took off a tunic, squealing at them about mud in her carpets. Billa’s respectableness was one of their favorite things about her.

“With Miss Baggins just past her majority and an unwed female I’m afraid she quite ruined her reputation amongst hobbits by running off with thirteen male dwarves and a wizard.”

“What are you tryin’ to imply, Wizard?” Dwalin hefted Grasper in to his hand, “None of us would ever touch the lass! She’s like a sister, she is!” “Aye!” chorused the surrounding members.

“I imply nothing Master Dwalin, you and I know no one had intentions towards Billa that were less than familial, but her relatives and business associates do not. By coming with you Billa sullied her reputation beyond repair, which” he held up his hand to stop the automatic defense of their burglar’s honor “she was aware of when she joined you on your quest. Billa signed over her holdings and responsibilities to her dear cousin Drogo the morning she left the Shire.”

“What are you saying Gandalf?” Thorin hissed, his teeth grinding together.

“What I am saying, Master Oakenshield,” huffed Gandlaf “is that Billa gave up her home to help you get yours back.”

The blood drained from Thorin’s face and every member of the company traded looks of despair, not only had they thrown her out of their family, but they took away the only home she had left.

“So you see you had best get your heads out of your arses” had Gandalf just sworn?!?!  “start apologizing and fix this mess you’ve made! Good Day!” he slammed his hat on his head, picked up his staff and stomped from the tent.

Mahal’s flaming fucking ponies, what were they to do now?

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cultural misunderstanding! Aka the trope where hobbits have really really sensitive ears.

** Chapter 11 **

 

It was well after supper when the Company reconvened in their King’s tent to discuss Gandalf’s “advice” and how they could make amends to their Burglar.

“What if we made her a feast?” Kili’s grin was large and excited, “Just like she had for us in her hobbit hole?”

Fili rolled his eyes at his brother “We don’t know how to cook, you idiot.”

“Noooooo” started Kili eyes roving over the assembled Company, “But Bombur does!”

All heads turned toward the rotund dwarf who was mid-way through chuffing his ale.

“Well I never,” Bombur sputtered his drink across the table “I have been cooking for the lass for the last two weeks! I’ve made her every meal and delivered it too!”

The table fell silent as the dwarves appraised the ginger chef.

“And she accepted it?” shouted Fili

“Course she has you daft bugger! Same as Dori’s coat!”

Now the oldest Ri brother found himself subject to the incredulous stares.

“I promised her a coat in Laketown. So I made one several weeks ago. She looks quite fine in it.” He added, fiddling with his cutlery as everyone exploded around him. “It’s not my fault none of you had the stones to follow through on your promises! Ori, Bofur and I are dwarrows of our word.”

“Bofur and Ori?” shouted Dwalin, his face flushing in exasperation, did none of them talk anymore? “Don’t tell us you gave the lass presents too?”

“I made her book” Ori wouldn’t look up from worrying his knitted mittens “of our greatest tales, just like I promised her in Rivendell.”

“I carved her a pipe I did, told her I would teach her to smoke.” Bofur puffed his own pipe blowing a smoke ring into his cousin’s face. “Course Gandalf’s the one teaching her now I s’pose.” The toymaker lost the twinkle in his eye at the reminder.

“But your gifts, she accepted them and uses them?”  Thorin had been silent for most of the evening but now his eyes burned bright in the flicker of the candles.

“Aye” they responded.

“Don’t you see?” the King gestured to all of his friends “We made Billa many promises, why don’t we show her we can keep them? Bofur, Dori, Ori and Bombur have already started with theirs but I know we talked of many things on our journey.” He stood from his chair and began pacing the length of the tent, his hands behind his back. “Maybe, just maybe, if we show her that all of our words, even the most insignificant were heartfelt and sincere she will give us the chance to prove that our remorse and regard for her are real as well.”

“Well what are we waitin’ for!” roared Dwalin “Let’s figure out what all we promised the lass!”

The Company agreed with a rousing chorus of “Aye’s!” and Ori got out his parchment. They would spend the rest of the night recounting every last thing they had promised their Burglar upon the winning of Erebor, from silks to flowers to feather beds and hot baths. They were reminded of the small things Billa had recalled so fondly and decided to be dwarves of their word and provide for her like the family she was. The next week would show an increase in packages to the Elvenking’s tent; parcels big and small, some in boxes some wrapped in silks but all of them were precious and thoughtful; all of them brought a small smile to Billa’s face and tears to her eyes. More importantly, every day she opened a gift she would sleep the night with undisturbed dreams.

* * *

 

 

“What in the world?” the other occupants of the tent heard Billa’s surprise and traded curious looks with each other.

“What did you get my dear?” Gandalf asked Billa who was behind the curtains surrounding her corner of the tent.

“Dresses, Gandalf. Gloin sent me dresses.” she said throwing back the curtains moving towards him with hands full of fabric, “Why in the world…. They’ve never even seen me in a dress.” she held one against her body, “How do they know my size?” her cheeks flushing at the thought of them finding her measurements.  

“Well” Legolas waved his hand imperiously, laughing at her predicament from his chair “let us see them all.”

“You would find this funny you stripling of a prince.” She murmured holding up a maroon one with gold embroidery.

“Clearly there is no accounting for taste” Thranduil turned from his papers at the table, eyeing the dress with open disgust. “The embroidery is awful.”

“The embroidery is just fine” she shook the dress at the Elf king “you just don’t like the geometric patterns. This green one is rather good.” She held the other dress for their inspection, the skirt a deep emerald with a lighter green bodice to go over a new white shift.

“That one is,” Thranduil made a so-so motion with his hands “slightly better.”

“You are just saying that because it is green.” She teased, ignoring his smirk. “You will think all of them are ugly, because they came from a dwarf!”

“Obviously.” he drawled to her back as she went behind the curtains again.

“Ada,” Legolas sighed putting his head in his hands “you are the absolute worst when it comes to clothes.”

“I am no such thing!” was the indignant reply, as he huffily straightened his papers. “I merely have an impeccable sense of fashion.”

Billa tried to hold back her laughter by placing a hand on her mouth, but she could not contain her mirth for long and even though it was at his expense even Thranduil smiled when her guffaws started echoing through the tent.

After the dresses came a polished silver mirror from Bifur and a mother of pearl handled brush and comb set from Nori. One night there was a copper tub filled with hot water waiting and vials filled with scented oils and soaps, the note said the bath salts would help with her headaches. Mahal bless Oin! And for the first time in a very, very long time Billa got to luxuriate in a hot bath, cleaning months of grime from her hair and feet. The next morning she brushed her curls till they shone and put on the beautiful green dress from Gloin. She couldn’t hold in her gasp when she looked in her new mirror. There was a face she hadn’t seen in quite some time, a pretty shire lass with copper curls and green eyes. Sure her cheeks were a little sharper and her eyes a little wiser but it was still a familiar face and now it was clean too. What a glorious day today would be.

* * *

 

  

Fili and Kili were absolutely stumped on what to give to Billa. They had never talked of the future choosing to focus more on the everyday aspects of their quest. They had taught her to ride a pony and track game, she taught them to play conkers. What kind of presents did you give to a sister? They went to the only person they could trust with such a problem, they went to Thorin.

“Uncle Thorin, are you here?” the tent was dark and night watch had started hours ago but they would be too busy to ask tomorrow.

“Ugh…” came their Uncle’s voice, Fili held the candle aloft to illuminate his cot while Kili searched for another to light. “What could you possibly want right now? Go back to bed.” Thorin rolled away from the light hoping they would obey his dismissal.

“But Uncle,” Thorin brought a hand up to rub his eyes, Mahal give him strength “we don’t know what to give Billa and since you have a sister we thought you could give us ideas.” That certainly got his attention and he rolled over to face his nephews who had settled in the chairs at his bedside, “Really boys?” he was almost pleading “This has to be done now?” They nodded emphatically “Jewelry boys, brothers give sisters jewelry. Keep in mind” he cautioned “that Billa is a hobbit and not likely to want something similar to what you mother wears.”

“So no golden neckbands dripping in sapphires?” asked Kili

“Definitely not, think simple, try and find something she could wear every day.”

“Right,” Fili smiled brightly “I think we can take it from here!”

“Good night boys.” called Thorin as they blew out the lights “Good night Uncle.”

Thorin could hear their traded whispers as they left his tent and walked down the rows of tents. Mahal help them when they started courting, they were idiots.

The brothers had not had reason to enter this part of the mountain since before the battle but the gold was as gleaming and plentiful as ever. The treasury was so large, where would they even start looking for jewelry? It’s not like Smaug had a sorting system, “Come on Fee, if we’re lucky we will find something acceptable before dawn.” So they started sorting. They uncovered swords and axes, crowns and armor, Fili even found a trunk made of silver, of course there was jewelry but none of it was right. It was all bulky and dripping with gemstones. They wanted something as beautiful as Billa but something simple that she could wear every day. There were beads of course, ones made of mithril or set with opals, hundreds of thousands of beads, but they didn’t dare give her something they weren’t ready for. Dawn came and they could hear the guard change when they finally found it, trapped under a chalice and partially tangled with a length of gold chain holding enormous tiger eyes, it was perfect!

“Oh Kili, I think this will do perfectly! If we hurry we can have it sent to her with breakfast! Come on!” and so the two Princes sprinted for the entrance hall, sliding down the golden mountains to rush to the cook tents. Billa would be sure to love her present, it was perfect for a hobbit lass!

* * *

 

 

Billa was just sitting down to breakfast with Legolas and Gandalf, using table manners that were only slightly rusty to avoid soiling her new dress, when a messenger was shown through the tent flaps.  
“I have a gift to deliver to Lady Baggins.” his bow was so low his beard was almost folded over his own feet, “It is from the Princes Fili and Kili; they hope you find it pleasing.” He answered her silent query as she reached for the box, scampering out before she had returned to the table.

Her two breakfast mates paid her little heed as she toyed with the small wooden box knowing well enough that she was deep in thought about the acceptance of the gift. She had deliberated about opening each one she had received and sometimes a parcel would sit unopened for days while she thought on her feelings for the gift giver. This was the first to come from any of the heirs of Durin and neither would be surprised if it remained on her bedside table for some time. Before either had finished their tea she gave a great sigh and tore the ribbon from the package.

“So soon?” Gandalf’s tone was cautious and questioning, none of the gifts had had such a short consideration and she knew he was worried that she was acting too rashly.

“My heart aches from their absence,” her small fingers spun the box on the table “if any would be worth further pain, it would be them.” Gandalf and Legolas patiently waited for her to open her gift, not even trying to hide their interest, who knew what the Princes would pick as a gift. But whatever it was must have been mortifying to Billa, for no sooner had she eased the lid of the box open she was slamming it shut again. Her face flushing a deep scarlet all the way up her ears.

“What in the world is in there?” Legolas asked with wide eyes. Surely it must be something awful to get such a reaction from the level headed hobbit.  But she did not answer him; her eyes still focused on the small box on the table, like she couldn’t quite comprehend what she had seen.

Just as suddenly as her face had shown surprise it morphed into anger. Her mouth tightened and her brows drew low and her shaking hands clenched around the box as she rose to feet. “How dare they?!?” she screamed as she stomped from the tent, flinging aside the flaps in her haste and startling the guards outside. The wizard and elf prince were stunned in their chairs, “Gandalf, where is she going?” he pointed after their hobbit, “Nowhere good Legolas.” He scrambled from his chair to run shouting after Billa, the Woodland Prince almost losing his balance in his haste to follow.

They would not have known where to go, had the girl not left a trail of gaping elves and men in her wake. The path she had walked was littered with people standing and staring, some in amusement and some in fear, more fell into the latter category, a mad hobbit lass is naught to be trifled with. But when the path led from the camp of men and elves to dwarves, the looks turned to surprise and, in some cases, awe. They finally caught sight of her as she strode up to a large blue tent, a pennant snapping from its peak showing the crest of the line of Durin. What could have been in that box to cause such a reaction?

* * *

 

She really hadn’t known what to expect when she opened her gift from Fili and Kili, it was a small box so it wasn’t a solid gold Oliphant which they had joked about at the start of their journey. Though maybe it was a figurine? That would be perfect as a mathom to commemorate her quest. She would have never guessed what lay in the box and thinking of it made her cheeks start to redden again, she could feel the blush burning in her ears.

They gave her earrings! They were made of a delicate gold cuff attached to a chain, with small chips of emeralds hanging from it in the shape of various leaves which connected to a large emerald stud. This was absolutely mortifying! How could they give her this? Oh Eru, the messenger said it was from both the princes, BOTH of them. What kind of hobbit did they think she was? Just because the Shire thought of her as some sullied tart, doesn’t mean she is! She wouldn’t take those implications from the old biddies back in Hobbiton and she certainly wasn’t going to take them from some stone headed princes. Oh she was going to show them. She killed Azog the Defiler! She saved their Mahal cursed lives! HOW DARE THEY!

She didn’t hesitate to leave the Elvenking’s tent and start stomping towards the border of the two camps. The faces of the people she passed bringing a brief flicker of amusement but not enough to distract her from her mission. She stepped into the camp of the Iron Hills dwarves quickly, not allowing herself to think about who exactly she was going to see, she was mildly insulted that Fili and Kili thought hiding in the middle of an army would deter her! Billa refused to acknowledge any of the dwarves she passed, not even for Dain who waved with a bewildered expression behind his beard. Soon enough her feet carried her towards a large blue tent in the center camp, with a pennant baring the crest of Durin’s line above it. She had them now!

“How dare you!” her stride was still strong when she stormed into the tent and up to the table the two princes were eating at. In hindsight Billa would recall the boys exchanging shocked, open mouth looks and there being a loud intake of breath form the tents other occupants, occupants she was steadfastly ignoring now. She didn’t care if they were hosting Mahal himself! “How dare you two!” she threw the box towards Fili’s head which he caught a scant few inches from his nose, the bastard. Fili and Kili were staring at her with open mouths, bewildered that a Hobbit who hadn’t seen them in weeks was charging into their tent in the middle of breakfast with the majority of the Company. A hobbit that was apparently infuriated at their idea of a present.

Fili regained his wits before his brother; “Billa, we thought it was perfect for you.” her eyes grew even harder at this admission. “Perfect for me?” Billa practically spat her words “Is this what I am to you?” having no idea what was so upsetting they could only nod their heads in utter confusion. “You think I’m some trollop who would accept something so vulgar!”

“Vulgar?” Billa whirled from the princes coming face to face with Bofur, “What did they give you lass?” the miner’s gaze turned to the princes, how dare they make insinuations about his sister!

“Earrings!” she answered, her face flushing beet red mortified to even mention the accursed jewelry. Billa’s answer garnered a  slack jawed expression as Bofur turned from Fili and Kili, who could only shrug their shoulders and make exasperated ‘I have no idea’ gestures behind Billa’s back, to Billa. “Earrings?” he parroted it back to the angry hobbit, “How are earrings vulgar?”

Casting her gaze backward once more, she finally saw the terrified and confused faces surrounding her, “Oh.” Billa said eyes widening as she turned to examine the details she had been too angry to take note of, like the fact that most of the Company were sitting on various furniture pieces staring at her like she was mad. Gandalf and Legolas must have followed her for they stood next to Oin and Gloin who were seated on a bench just inside the tent entrance, Gandalf looking extremely amused. Ori, Nori and Dori were sitting on the cots and Bofur, Bombur and Bifur must have been using the stools and desk to perch on. With her face still flushed, though now from embarrassment, Billa hesitated to ask her question, “Are earrings not vulgar? To dwarrows?”

None of the company seemed willing to answer, convinced they would only end up angering the hobbit again. But Gloin, courageous fool that he was couldn’t keep his gob shut, “Course not! I gave my Silri a fine pair when I asked her to start courting!” and like a dam had burst the rest of the Dwarves started speaking over each other to reassure Billa that no, earrings were not a vulgar gift for dwarves.

“Uncle Thorin gave our mother a pair for her birthday once!”

“Dwalin used to wear one before his ear got ripped.”

“I made my Amad one for my jeweler’s mastery.”

“So........you weren’t calling me a trollop?” she turned her wide eyes back to Fili and Kili,

“NO!” Just as they were together in everything else, they did this together “Mahal, no Billa!” “We though you would like the leaf designs.” “We would never think you were a trollop!” “If anyone ever calls you that we’ll cut off their beard.” “Where in the world did you get this idea?!” so Billa’s embarrassment grew. While this was not the first cultural difference they had encountered in their time together it was the first one that Billa had reacted so strongly to. It was also the most personal. It was Gandalf who spared her from answering, “Hobbits have very sensitive ears, Master Kili.” And even hearing such a thing mentioned made Billa want to raise her hands and cage her ears beneath her fingers.

 “What in world do you mean Gandalf, Hobbits have sensitive ears? Don’t we all have sensitive ears?” The grey wizard hemmed and hawed while searching for the best words to explain such a delicate topic, “No, Master Fili you don’t understand, a Hobbit’s ears are extremely sensitive.”

  “Oh!” replied the Princes, nodding together as it all started to make sense, and slowly the rest of the company catching on as well, “Oh, OH.” And suddenly the Princes REALLY got it “Ew. Ew. Ew” Kili covered his own ears, “Oh dear Mahal.” Fili looked at Billa, his eyes blown in terror and they both turned to look at each other, “They’re  **Sensitive!”**  they crowed in absolute horror, the understanding and attention of the Company finally driving Billa to raise her shoulders in attempt to hide her ears from any possible scrutiny. “Stop it!” she hissed, her face even more red, “We don’t talk about it!”

 “Indeed” Gandalf continued his lecture in an even tone “Hobbits do not talk of such things outside a romantic relationship. While we all know now,” he emphasized pointedly, “that you never meant such a thing, you must understand this from Billa’s perspective, to gift an adornment for such a sensitive area is tantamount to a vulgar proposition, outside of a marriage at least. If you were married it would be considered quite the, um, prelude, yes that will work nicely, quite the prelude!”

“Damn right we didn’t mean it that way!” Kili vehemently stated as he and Fili walked around the table to stand by Billa, placing one of his hands on her shoulder “We will find you a different gift, a better gift.”

With her embarrassment fading, Billa could not believe the ludicrousness of the situation and let loose a loud, beautiful laugh. It bubbled in her belly and worked its way free by shaking her all the way to her toes. Gandalf joined her in her mirth with Legolas and suddenly the entire tent was filled with it. There were snorts and snickers and rumbling chuckles. They laughed and laughed until Billa was wiping tears from her eyes, leaning against Bofur to keep herself standing. It felt like ages since she felt this wonderful, not since Laketown at least and that was almost two months ago. As Bofur slung his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his side her tears leaked from her eyes a little faster and instead of just leaning against him she turned into his shoulder, taking a deep breath of the lingering smells of weapon oil and copper. She had missed them all so much! When Bofur’s other arm came around her waist and pulled her tight against his chest she didn’t fight her laughter as it turned to sniffles and the sniffles turned to sobs, she just clutched tighter at one of her dearest friends.

Though their laughter was loud everyone was quick to notice when Billa’s laughs turned to tears. Here was their Burglar, their fierce little Billa and while she was clean and well fed and looking beautiful in the dress Gloin had given her her shoulders hung and her hands clutched Bofur’s jacket like it was a lifeline and she seemed so very sad. She was obviously hurt by their actions and selfishness but here she was with them again, maybe now was the time to start mending the chain they had broken.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billa spends the day with her Company and maybe finds a piece of her old home.

** Chapter 12 **

When Billa’s tears had subsided they took the risk of asking her to join them for second breakfast. Her acceptance was a small nod into Bofur’s shoulder and as tentative as it was, her companions gave a raucous cheer and proceeded to smother the hobbit, and each other, in a large group hug.  Their morning passed quickly in the tent of the Durin’s, all choosing to shirk their duties to stay with Billa for a while longer. There were times the conversation grew stilted or a silence would stretch but instead of being discouraged they saw it as a reminder of their new goal and did anything to break it. Bofur would keep throwing food to Bombur, Dori and Nori would bicker over anything and everything and Fili and Kili would start small elbow fights and juggling contests, even going so far as to steal food from Billa’s plate. They stayed away from any dangerous topics, which included Thorin, the battle or the Arkenstone and instead talked as they had around their campfires, of hot baths and food, missed family and those “thrice damned tree-shaggers”. The morning was filled with joy and laughter and Billa was grateful for their efforts and gentleness. She knew her emotions could get the best of her; just yesterday she had burst into tears when Gandalf quoted her grandfather Took.

“Well Billa here could have taken all three trolls on her own if Fili had just given her a knife!” Nori decided to restart a common argument following their fight with the mountain Trolls, which the camp had always been firmly divided on. Some thinking that Billa would not only have been able to burgle the ponies but have made it back to camp unscathed, if Fili had given her a goddamn dagger. Whereas the rest thought that none of them would have been able to get the ponies back without a fight but surely Billa could have found a better way to save their lives than accusing them of having parasites.

“Billa could have done no such thing Nori!” Dori vehemently denied “She was barely a burglar then! I doubt you could have done it! Though really only she could have kept them busy till sunrise.”

“You’re daft Dori!” Kili had always been adamant in defending his plan “She could have done it in a dress to boot!” Fili of course agreed with his brother.

“Speakin of dresses,” Bofur shot Billa a sly look “might I say you are looking rather gorgeous today my lady.” And in true older cousin fashion proceeded to embarrass her further by giving a sweeping bow and a kiss to her hand. The other dwarves couldn’t help but notice that Billa did look quite fine today. Her figure had rounded again with good food and rest and her curls were held in loose bundle down her back. With the smile on her face and her eyes glowing, she looked very fair indeed. Billa, who had always thought herself rather plain and thin by hobbit standards, couldn’t help but blush.

 “Thank you Bofur! You will have to thank Gloin as well; it was a gift from him! It has been so long since I wore a dress, I almost forgot what it felt like!”

“Go on lass! I didn’t spend a whole day looking at fabric swatches for nothing,” Gloin’s voice was gruff with happiness as he twirled one finger at Billa “give us a twirl!”

Billa spun for her friends, her skirt billowing with the motion and her face bright with her laughter. It had been so long since she had been called beautiful and none of her friends held back on their compliments. “You’re beautiful Billa!” “Who could have known what a pretty thing you were under all that dirt!” “We’ll be beating the lads away with sticks, we will!” Oin’s comment brought silence, save for Gandalf’s sudden chuckling.

“Mahal, no!” Bofur’s eyes were wide as he looked at Billa “You’re right!” Bifur started growling at Bombur who was nodding at him while giving Billa an appraising stare.

“Nope!” Fili and Kili were shouting with their arms over their chests “Nope! Nope! Nope! Nobody had better look at her like that.”

“Excuse me?” she said to the brothers, “Just who do you think you are?”

 “Now Billa, calm down, there is no reason to get upset.” Dori cut her off, “We just want what’s best for you and with you being a very pretty young lady and a very rich and notorious young lady AND a member of our families, no one will ever be good enough.” The oldest Ri wiped his hands against one another “So really there is no need to worry. We will kill them before they even try to present a courting gift.”

Nori, for once, was in agreement with his brother, “Aye, we’ll just drop them down a mineshaft.”

“You are all being ridiculous,” she put her hands on her hips and stared at her friends “a dwarf courting a hobbit? I think there is a better chance of Kili actually talking to Tauriel!” None of them laughed like she expected, though Kili was only silent out of mortification.

“Billa,” Ori’s voice was very gentle “I think you don’t understand how lovely you really are. No, let me finish!” he stopped her denials in her throat, “You are as brave as any dwarf and twice as clever. You always took care of us and listened to us and Billa,” he stopped to cup her chin, making her look up from the ground and into his eyes, “you are most certainly beautiful.” He swept his arm to encompass the entire room, “We all love you and any dwarrow would be lucky to have you.” She was again swept into a large group hug, firmly crushed in the center.

 “Not that we will allow them though.” Fili reemphasized causing the group to break out in laughter again.

“What in Arda is going on here!” the thundering voice of Thorin ripped through their moment “Is this where all of you have been all morning?” Thorin was furious at what he saw, all of his companions standing in his nephew’s tent, HUGGING, instead of doing one of the million tasks assigned to them. Balin and Dwalin at his side as always looked just as displeased.

“Uncle!” Kili shouted trying to stop him before he dealt more damage, because as soon as Billa heard Thorin’s voice her grip on his coat tightened and she started to sink to her knees. He couldn’t see her face but he knew she was close to tears. Thorin was in no mood to listen to his excuses. “You and Fili were due to inspect the armory with Dwalin hours ago! I have been without a royal scribe for two council meetings!” his ire turned to Ori who cringed farther into the group “Have you all lost your common sense!”

“SHUT UP!” Fili couldn’t let him continue, his shouting had started to cause Billa to shake at his feet with tears running down her face. Thorin was stunned into silence. “You’re scaring her!”

“Scaring who?” the King couldn’t help ask as he didn’t see anyone in the tent besides his Company and none of them were women. “Oh my,” Balin gasped next to him and gripped his sleeve, pointing towards Fili and Kili’s feet where Thorin could make out two large, furry feet and a mass of copper curls “it’s Billa.”

“Billa?” he whispered, breaking through his friends to reveal her further and what he saw broke his heart. She was crying, face buried into Kili’s thighs and shoulders trembling. He had frightened her. Again.  “Billa…..” he sank to his knees next to her his hand raised halfway between them, not certain if his touch would make things better or worse. Dwalin made the decision for him, when he crouched down and started to stroke her hair. She tensed under the touch at first but when his deep brogue started crooning she turned and sank into an embrace with the tattooed dwarf, his knuckle duster covered hands moving to embrace her instantly. He looked over her head at Thorin and glared.

“What is she doing here?” Balin had moved to his King’s shoulder, his gaze curious and sad.

“It’s a long story,” Gandalf cut off all other responses before they could explain the embarrassing start to this gathering “but Billa came to visit and thank them for their gifts. We decided to stay for second breakfast and elvensies and if you hadn’t interrupted, probably lunch.”

“Billa.” Thorin pleaded, hoping she would stop crying, desperate that she would look at him; just one look. “I am sorry I shouted. I did not mean to scare you.” He whispered more words of assurance and nonsense and slowly her sobs turned to sniffles and gradually shudders, though her grip on Dwalin did not lessen nor did she turn to look at him. “I am so glad you came to visit, we have all missed you.” These words convinced her turn towards the dwarf king as they were said so gently and so wistfully that Billa could not stop herself from looking into his eyes.

They were still blue, possibly even darker than before, but there was no madness or hatred burning in them. They looked sad and weary, as if the burden on Thorin’s shoulders had only grown with reclaiming the mountain, which it had. His hair was still braided though his beads seemed finer than she remembered and he was wearing new scale armor and clean furs. He looked like a King but Billa thought he always looked very regal even when he was travel weary or covered in spider webs. But now he looked so old. When was the last time he smiled?

“I missed you too.” she hesitantly answered. While she probably meant the entire Company, Thorin’s heart lurched in his chest when she looked in his eyes and said it. Thorin knew this was his chance to ask forgiveness for the offense he committed. He hadn’t spoken with Balin or Dain of it, knowing they would not approve, but his heart told him it was the only way. So with Billa turned to look at him and before his closest of companions Thorin bent forward on his knees and brought his forehead to the ground, ignoring the gasps the motion elicited. “Miss Billa Baggins of the Shire, I Thorin, son of Thrain, King Under the Mountain prostrate myself before you as a slave to a master to beg forgiveness for my grievous offenses” he girded himself, the naming of offenses was always the hardest, he had to be absolutely honest and to leave out one offense would make him unworthy of forgiveness. “As a King I am to be calm and collected and wise in all of my decisions and when I cannot find wisdom within myself I am to defer to my advisors, for that is their purpose. Not only did I disregard council from you, I devalued your words and worth by doing so. I was not strong enough to fight the madness of my line, nor was I strong enough to see that your actions were right. When you were brave enough to stand up to my insanity I called you traitor and cast you out of my kingdom and my family and without the intervention of Gandalf, I would have been your murderer as well.” He could not lift his forehead until the oaths were complete, but he prayed the small hand on his head was not imagined, “In recompense of my actions I offer myself freely into your servitude until I enter my Father’s Halls.” He could hear the rest of the company muttering in surprise, to put a King in the servitude of another put his kingdom in their servitude as well, but Thorin knew that if anyone could be trusted with this, it was Billa Baggins. “I offer you this” he withdrew a knife from his boot and raised it to the braid at his left temple, the one that declared him King of Durin’s folk, and cut it off “to wear. So all dwarrows will know who you are and how I have wronged you.”

“Thorin, I-" she looked around to her companions for help; it was Balin who came to her aid “He offers you his braid, which is his strength and his honor, it is the greatest apology any of us could give.”

“Thorin” she moved her hand from the top of his head to his cheek and willed him to raise his head, “what you did to me hurt and still hurts and may always hurt. But just as I have given our friends the chance to make amends, so I will give you the same.” Billa’s eyes had started to water during Thorin’s heartfelt words and now her tears streamed unchecked. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you or trust you again, but you are welcome to try.”

Thorin grabbed her hand that was holding his face and wound the braid around her wrist, securing it with the bead. “I ask you to wear this until I have earned your forgiveness, even if it never happens. And if I do complete my task I bid you to return the bead to me, so everyone will know that we have reconciled.” He watched her stroke the hair and inspect the bead and for the first time in a month his heart was a little lighter and her smile a little brighter. When his knees had gone past aching and his face was sore from his grin Billa reached for him again and gently tipped his face towards her and softly, hesitantly bumped his forehead with her own. Amongst the cheers and shoulder slaps of his company they called for lunch to be brought and he decided there was no duty more important than this, being all together again.

It was long past tea and creeping up on supper when their talks turned to the present. They shared thoughts on the restoration and the plans for Dale, even the coronation.

“Do I get to know what name I am being saddled with before the ceremony?” Billa was teasing Balin over their empty plates, “Or do I get to be surprised and possibly stuck with something awful?”

“Well, we definitely can’t tell you beforehand you know.” He tapped the side of his nose and winked at her “But I think you will like it. I know Dwalin is going to be tickled with his!”

“Oh!” Billa was surprised, Dain had never told her who else would be getting a Deed name at the Coronation, “Who else is getting one?”

“We have you, of course,” the older dwarf puffed a little with pride “and my beast of a brother and Fili and Kili. There was some debate on giving Bifur one, but he refused the honor. He said he didn’t want to be gawked at like some snot nosed noble for the rest of his days.” They shared a chuckle over the eldest of the Ur family’s antics.

“Has the date been set for the coronation? Will they wait for spring?”

“We were thinking of that, so the Lady Dis could be here for it, but we decided to hold it the day before the Elves go back to Mirkwood.” The date was still three weeks away which allowed the men and dwarves to clear adequate space for the winter, “Speaking of Lassie, Gandalf and Thranduil mentioned that you’ve no place to stay for the winter.” Billa who had been trying not to think about this for several days now, merely nodded in response. “I don’t know if you’d be interested, and don’t think you have to, but Dwalin and I have cleared out our old family chambers. We have a few spare rooms and a kitchen and we wanted to know if, maybe, you might like to stay with us?” As the silence stretched on he started to fiddle with his teaspoon, hoping he hadn’t messed up so early in the reconciliation.

“Dwalin is alright with this?” her voice was soft and uncertain and she refused to meet his eyes but he could hear the faint hope in her voice.

“Course I am Little Miss!” like his name summoned him, the tattooed warrior came up behind them and put his arms around Balin and Billa. “I’ve never been an older sibling before! I look forward to hounding you when you miss curfew and the like.” His words must have been exactly what Billa needed to hear for her face split into a large grin and she practically dove onto Balin and Dwalin. She wrapped her arms around their necks and held them like she never wanted to let go, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” her words were soft and meant for their ears only, but the sons of Fundin were overjoyed to hear them.

“Oi now!” Nori sauntered up to the group, “Why don’t I get a hug like that?”

“They asked me to live with them Nori!” the thief’s face broke into a smile as he shouted to the rest of the group. “Pay up boys! She’s moving in with the geezers!” the room filled with groans and clinking money sacks, each family had put money down on themselves to win the bet so the payout for Dwalin and Balin was a pretty penny indeed. None of them minded though. They were all too happy with the outcome that Billa was staying in Erebor, staying with them, to complain about whom she lived with, though Fili and Kili were pouting anyway.

So dinner turned to drinks and hot mead was passed around the tent into the late hours and the dwarven camp was at peace for the first time in weeks. The guards around the tent would spread the events of the day to anyone who would listen, which was everyone, the  **Amadith**  was home again and her laugh was like a song and her love burned hotter than the Father’s forges and so Billa’s reputation grew a little more that night and her heart healed a bit more.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is crowned King Under the Mountain and steals a moment alone with Billa. *** Link for Billa’s dress http://www.roxx-online.com/onlineStore/images/roxxonline/productPhotos/Dark%20blue%20&%20gold%20velvet%20medieval%20hooded%20dress%20%203175.JPG ******

** Chapter Thirteen **

 

He watched her stroke the hair and inspect the bead and for the first time in a month his heart was a little lighter and her smile a little brighter. When his knees had gone past aching and his face was sore from his grin Billa reached for him again and gently tipped his face towards her and softly, hesitantly brought her lips to his. They were as soft as petals and warm, so warm, like a hearth fire on Yule. It set him alight inside and he could not keep himself from bring his hands up to her cheeks, tilting her head back and rising on his knees to kiss her harder and deeper and run his tongue gently across the seam of her lips, and when she sighs he-

It was the third time this week Thorin had woken from a dream featuring Billa’s soft features. The twelfth since she accepted the company back into her life. He had been busy the last three weeks getting ready for his coronation and leading the efforts to ready the mountain for winter but Billa was constantly skirting the edge of his thoughts. Whether he watched her take notes during meetings, ink stains on her fingers and hair tied in a knot at the her neck, or ferrying food into the tents of various company members, he had never SEEN her like this before. On the quest he had feared for her, at first, hoped she would go back home and be safe. After she saved him from Azog on the Carrock he saw her blossom into a confident young woman, one who knew her strength both in steel and in mind. He had been proud of her; the same as when Fili crafted his first sword or Kili shot his first bull’s-eye. But this, this was beyond the warm pride he had felt; this was a slow burn in his gut, a constant awareness of her presence. This was a deep seated attraction.

He let out the breath he had been holding, hoping to shake the last vestiges of the dream from his mind. There was no time to be distracted today, today he became the King Under the Mountain, today his victory was complete. The mountain was reclaimed; the wyrm dead and his people would live to see the spring. Tonight they would feast in the halls of his ancestors and celebrate their victory and mourn their losses but that was tonight. Right now he had to get up and ready himself for a meeting with Balin, who was going to be giving him rigorous instructions about his coronation, while he may have been working his whole life for this moment did not mean the ancient rites were memorized. It was going to be a long and glorious day.

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you Thorin, son of Thrain, second of your name and proven as Oakenshield swear to lead Durin’s Folk into a prosperous age?”

The ceremony had been going for hours already with herbal baths and ceremonial armor that led to anointing within the Temple of Mahal. Now he kneeled before the throne of Erebor, his grandfather’s throne, the Arkenstone casting its glow over his head, reciting his oaths to his people and office. He had promised to rule with wisdom and a level head and listen to the whispers of the stone. Now he pledged to lead his people back to greatness. Just a few more oaths between himself and Gandalf and he would be King.

“Do you further promise to rule with a steady hand and a generous heart?”

“I, Thorin Oakenshield, swear to uphold the honor of Durin’s line and bring peace and prosperity to all who come to the Lonely Mountain. May the strength of my Maker guide me and the bounties of his wife bless my reign.”

The throne room had been filled to capacity, every dwarrow wanting to watch the crowning of the new King. The Company sat in the front row with Dain, Bard and his family and Thranduil with Legolas. The scent of pine was heavy to cover the lingering scent of smoke but the dwarves were home. When Gandalf placed the crown of gold and onyx on his head and he rose to face his people their cheer rang within the mountain like great bells and echoed to even the deepest mine shaft. Erebor was again home to Durin’s folk.

“My people,” Thorin’s voice rang clear above the crowd’s cheers, “long have we mourned our losses from the day Smaug came. We lost friends, family and our home” The silence that stretched was absolute, “but we never faltered. Not when we were hungry and starving, not when we were forced to craft in lowly smithies for a pittance of our worth, not when we wandered across this world searching for a warm hearth and safe tidings. Not once did we fall to our knees! We were carved from stone and like the mountain we endured and now, we are home!” A great cheer rose from the masses again great whoops and hollers from every attendant, each competing to be the most joyous. Thorin raised his hands to quell them, “But while we are a strong and proud people let it never be said that we are not grateful or that we do not honor our friends and allies. Today it is my great honor to bestow Deed Names onto four of the fiercest and most loyal people I have ever known. Would Crown Prince Fili, son of Dis, step forth?”

Fili was resplendent in his Durin blue leather with black leggings, his armor was a shining scale steel, his crown a thin band of mithril in his braided blonde hair. He carried his head high, never once flushing from embarrassment or nerves. This is a man who would be a good King.

“Prince Fili,” his sister son met his gaze unwaveringly “You reclaimed a mountain and stood up in the face of great terror and danger but far more than that you fought to protect your fellow soldier, your brother. Even with the wrath of the White Orc upon you, you did not waver in fear nor cower. You kept your swords and prepared yourself to fight and die for kin and king. For this I name you, Fili Lion-heart, the Crown Prince of Erebor!” while the noise from the crowd was great it meant little to the Prince, who instead focused on his Uncle’s warm gaze as he tapped his forehead against his. “I am so proud of you my boy.” And with his head held high, Fili took his rightful place at Thorin’s right side.

“Would Prince Kili, son of Dis, step forth?” though the archer had lost much of his childish naiveté during the journey and subsequent battle he had lost none of his energy, he practically bounced to Thorin at his throne. “Prince Kili, when you were young you chose to master the ways of the Archer, much to your Mother and I’s dismay.” the crowd chuckled a little, archery was seen as a fairly elvish pursuit, “But despite our worries and the mocking of your peers you practiced relentlessly and worked to become the greatest dwarf archer in our history. Then you undertook a journey that those three times your age feared to. You started the road as a young man on the cusp of adulthood and ended it as a blooded warrior, just as capable and deadly and any of your forbearers. Your skills were often the only thing between our Company and certain death. For this determination and dedication to craft we name you Kili Keen-shot, Prince of Erebor!” again the crowd rose up to cover the moment between Uncle and nephew and Kili stood next to his brother.  

“Would Dwalin, son of Fundin, come forth?” Dwalin had been surly when Thorin asked him to receive a Deed Name, but after Thorin promised to make it a really, really great one and Balin promised to help him, he caved. “We name you Dwalin Morgul-bane!” Really what else could they have named him, Dwalin ragged-ear, Dwalin giant-pain-in-my-royal-arse? No, Morgul-bane was best and from the grin on his face Dwalin must have liked it too.

“Would Billa, daughter of Bungo, come forth?” Thorin wasn’t surprised that Billa would not look up from the ground. She had always been a humble creature, though none would call her meek. She was clearly intimidated by the crowd. Writing out Billa’s deeds had been the most difficult. He wanted her to understand how much he appreciated everything she had done for him and his people.

“Thirteen companions took up arms with me, not thirteen warriors or thirteen adventurers, but they came all the same. Twelve of them came because the Line of Durin called, because I called, but one came because it was right. She left her green and gentle land and gave up her home because ours had been taken. She became our burglar and over the many months on the road became even more than that. She was our good cheer, our care taker, our friend and for many she is our family. She riddled with a dragon!” there were roars of approval from the crowd, “Burgled from the Elvenking,” the noise went up a level, “she sought peace when others sought war and she killed the Defiler! She fought for our home and our lives as a mother defends her young, so we name you Billa Mountain Mother!” and slowly, softly a first a word rose up through the ranks, “Amadel. Amadel. Amadel.” And then they are chanting it, screaming it, their voices rising in the proclamation of their greatest hero, **“Amadel! Amadel!”**

The chant makes Billa’s eyes meet Thorin’s, “What are they saying?”

“It is their name for you in Khuzdul; it means Mother of all mothers.” His tone is light and teasing and it pleases him to see her blush creep higher on her cheeks. “They do you great honor.”

 

* * *

 

The feast that followed was plentiful and full of joy, with generous provisions gifted by Thranduil, Dain and even Elrond. They had found the cellars in the royal wing mostly undamaged and the wine was strong and dark when they uncorked the casks. The music came from dozens of instruments, flutes and fiddles, drums and guitars; it was the merriest gathering of his people in a century.

Billa was dancing with Balin, her dress a gold swirl around her feet the black ribbon of her bodice shining in the torchlight. Mahal she was beautiful.

“You may want to pine a little less obviously, Cousin.” Thorin was startled when Dain flopped into the chair next to him; his breath sour from drink.

“I have no idea what you are talking about Dain.” Thorin swirled the drink in his own goblet, trying and failing at nonchalance.

“Oh yes you do.” He hiccupped “Not that anyone would blame you she is rather comely with her copper hair and emerald eyes, her dress fits her like a glove. I almost swallowed my tongue when I dipped her on our last set. Who knew hobbits were so ample?” he made a crude gesture.

Thorin growled and looked back to Billa and Balin. “Are you not married?”

“I am!” he boomed “Quite happily too, but that does not make Miss Baggins any less pretty or witty. If it weren’t for the dedicated efforts of your company I think she would be swarmed by admirers this evening.”

Dain was speaking the truth Thorin had seen the Company deflecting everyone from dancing with their hobbit by keeping her busy with them. As soon as the first dwarf had mustered the courage to seek her out at the head table she was dragged off by Kili for a rowdy tavern dance and she hadn’t rested her feet yet.

“You should dance with her.” Dain broke through his musings, “You know you want to!”

And he did. He wanted to dance with her more than anything, to wrap his hands around her waist and spin her about, see her eyes light up in laughter. Oh, how he wanted.

So deep was Thorin in his musings he never noticed Dain filling his wine cup up again and again and again. When Dain next asked him why he didn’t dance with Billa, he had no good reason to stay seated and went to hunt down his hobbit.

He found her on the dance floor, spinning wildly about with Bofur, gold skirt flaring to reveal a hint of white petticoats and cheeks flushed from drink.

“Could I cut in?” his voice was a low rumble as the miner handed him Billa’s hand and he in turn swept her away, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Oh Thorin, this is the best night” she was interrupted by a hiccup, “I have ever had!”

Thorin didn’t hold back his smile at seeing her so happy and so deep in her cups, drunken hobbits are adorable.

They danced around the main hall to fast song and slow songs, sometimes they talked of life in the camp and how the mountain was progressing but sometimes they just swayed together in silence. But as the evening turned to early morning Billa’s feet seemed to get heavier and heavier.

“Why don’t we get some air?” he asked her when she had stumbled for the fifth time, “There is a balcony off the hall.”

“That sounds perfect.” she was giggling up at him “I think I have had far too much drink this evening.”

They both sighed when the cool night air caressed their faces, the dancing had been vigorous and they were both tired and warm.

It was Billa who broke their companionable silence, “For all the things I dreamed of when I was little I never quite imagined this.” She turned away from the railing to look back at Thorin, “I never did thank you, did I?”

“And what, little hobbit” he walked towards her, stopping only when he could feel her breathing upon his chin “have I done to deserve your thanks?” he hoped that the flushing of her cheeks was not just from the cold.

“You did not leave me. You may have tried to make me leave; you may have been rude and brash. You may have even wished for me to leave.” her eyes rose to meet Thorin’s and he could see her honesty shining through them, “But not once did you leave me behind and I am so grateful for that Thorin. I don’t know what I would have done if you had left me in Rivendell or Beorn’s or even in Bree.” Her hands came up to rest on Thorin’s chest, toying slightly with the fabric.

“Billa,” he brought his hands up to cover hers “I cannot tell you how proud I am of you, how grateful I am for you.” He took one step closer, trapping their hands between them, “I would have lost everything on this quest without you; my life” his voice was growing rougher and deeper and he could feel Billa shudder against him, please let it not be from cold, “the lives of my nephews,” he tilted his head lower and he could see her lips were parted, breathing in the chilly air, “my kingdom” he brought his lips down towards her ear, “my soul.” He certainly did not imagine the shudder that racked her frame with his last words. “I may never be able to repay you” he continued in her ear, his breath stirring the strands that had fallen from her elaborate braid, “but I would like to try.”

Billa was frozen in her place as Thorin leaned closer and closer to her, slowly invading her personal space. She couldn’t bring herself to care, no matter how angry she may have been at him, maybe it was the wine or the joy of the evening  but when his voice whispered into her ear she couldn’t suppress her shudder, never had Thorin’s voice sounded more thrilling. Before she understood what had happened he pressed a small bead into her hand and walked away. 

Later when the party was over and dawn was creeping towards the mountain, she would look at the bead he pressed in her palm and wonder why he had kept her scholars bead for so many months.

And in a tent on the other side of camp a King would lay awake, thinking of flushed cheeks and soft hair and a small body shuddering against his.

Neither got much sleep that night.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billa says goodbye to the elves and settles into life in the Mountain with the sons of Fundin.

** Chapter 14 **

 

“I am going to miss you so much!” Legolas was crouched before her so she could give him a proper hug.

“Billa I will only be a few days away, should you have need of me, and you may send me a raven at any time.” He pulled back from her embrace to look down on her fondly, “The Greenwood will always be open to you, Billa Mountain Mother.” He dropped a kiss on her brow before mounting his horse next to Thranduil and with one last look they began their journey back to the Woods. They had stayed for the Coronation and after a day of recovery the last of the Elves were headed back, to help keep trade flowing to the mountain residents and to combat the darkness that was still lingering in their lands.

“Come now Billa,” Balin clasped his hand on her shoulder when the Elves disappeared beyond Dale, “let me show you home.”

And while she knew it would be a strange place to get used to in comparison to her green Shire, she couldn’t help but feel at peace for the first time in a very long time. “Yes Balin. Bring me home.”

Home turned out to be a set of rooms in the royal wing, which was also housing the rest of the Company, the rooms weren’t as luxurious as Bag end, but were far better than the tent city they had been staying in and even though her mattress was only filled with straw, it was still a mattress.

“Just set your bag down in your room” Balin was showing her around their apartment “and I will teach you to use the water system.”

 A system which hadn’t been ruined by Smaug’s invasion and brought hot water from the deep mountain springs into every house in Erebor, the rest of the plumbing system had also been restored to many parts of the reclaimed mountain. Billa would be taking a long hot soak tonight, something she hadn’t had since Rivendell, a full six months prior.

“Now lass, get your jaw off the floor. I’m not done with the tour yet!” reluctantly Billa followed Balin from the bathing chamber and out into the hallway.

“Thorin’s room is at the end of the hall and Fili and Kili have the one across from ours.  The Ri brothers are at the end with the Ur family across from them, Oin and Gloin at the ones next to ours.”

The only door left turned out to be a large communal meeting room that Thorin would be using to organize the reclamation efforts and to hold council meetings.

“Now let me show you the dining hall, we’ll be taking our meals there for the winter and then I will show you to the library where I am sure Ori is waiting to put you to work.”

Billa’s tour would take the rest of the day and by the time she and Ori had finished the mountain was quiet and still. Balin, who was still awake and reading reports by their living room fire, wished her a good night as she stumbled exhausted and dust covered into her bed. Her sleep was deep and dreamless.

 

* * *

 

“Billa!” her head popped up from the stack of dusty tomes she was investigating, “Come see what I found.” the excitement in Ori’s voices was palpable.

She took off like a shot, searching through the many bookshelves that had been shaken or tipped during Smaug’s invasion. She found her friend behind a dusty stack of books, each as thick as her waist.

“What did you find Ori?” she started wiping the dust from the tomes.

“These are the Ritual Tomes and Mahal’s Edicts!” he was practically squeaking in his excitement. “They have all our festivals and rites recorded in them. These ones have our oldest laws and histories that were spoken by Mahal at our creation. Balin and I had hoped they would be intact and they seem to need only a little restoration work.”

“That’s great, I think, but why are these so important? We already had the coronation and that went just fine. Aren’t these rituals also oral knowledge?”

He tore his gaze from his book to look up at her, “Well, some of them are, the ones that we do every year or for weddings and births. But some of these are only done during royal weddings which haven’t happened since Thrain was married and none of us were even alive for it.”

“But Dis-?”

“But Dis” he interrupted her interruption “didn’t have a royal wedding, she married a miner of Ered Luin and even though Fili and Kili are Thorin’s heirs, their Mother chose not to have a royal ceremony while we were in exile.”

The mountain bell tolled the seventh hour of the evening, interrupting their conversation.

“Come on Ori, we can show these to Balin tomorrow. It’s time to meet the others for dinner!”

Billa untied the cloth covering her hair and shook the dust from her apron before threading her arm through Ori’s and heading off to meet their comrades for a warm meal and some beer.

 

* * *

 

“And then she said, ‘You have to skin them first!’” Bofur’s tale of the Company’s evening spent with the Mountain trolls was a favorite of the Iron Hills dwarrow and people of Laketown, and tonight with the Dining Hall warm and full of food the miner wove stories about the harrowing journey they took to reclaim their home. With Billa at his side and Fili and Kili acting out the parts of Trolls the people ignored the first snowstorm of winter that raged outside, content and happy in their temporary lodgings.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS - Menstruation and all the grossness that accompanies it....... it's not graphic but there is talk of blood. Basically
> 
> *This chapter is based off of my desire to see a fanfic addressing the effects of such a tough journey on Billa/Bilbo. The only story I could find about fem!Bilbo menstruating while on the journey is Bloody Hell by Laora on FFN and Mediator by Mynuet.
> 
> *The info about acidic soil and crop growth is all true but there are specifics that I didn't go into.

** Chapter 15 **

 

The Council meeting had dragged forever and even though Thorin was accustomed to it he could see that Billa, who was writing the transcript, was not. It was well past time to break for dinner and her complexion had gotten paler and paler with every argument the Iron Hills dwarrow started. When Thorin looked back to her and found her face twisted in a slight grimace with the heel of her hand rubbing her forehead and the other curled around her stomach he called a halt.

“I think we have made great progress today but surely a warm meal and some rest will allow us to find the solutions better than a late and trying evening?” Who said he couldn’t be diplomatic? “We will reconvene after breakfast tomorrow.” Though they grumbled and groused no one stayed long in the meeting room except Billa and Thorin. She was slowly gathering up her papers wincing every time she twisted her torso or bent to pick up papers and Thorin watched the pained movements with growing concern.

“Billa, are you feeling alright?” he asked when her face caught the firelight and he could see how pale she really was, “You look unwell.” He could see her hackles rise at the question as she turned to face him fully, “I am just fine!” she snapped and quickly added in a softer tone, “I am just very achy and I can’t decide if I am hot or cold.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, tucking her scholars braid back behind her ear. She looked exhausted and even though she lifted her eyebrows in question when Thorin stepped up to her, she did not flinch when his hand met her forehead. “You feel cold and your cheeks are pale.” he moved his hands to cup her face. His voice had dropped to a low rumble, as it always did when he spoke to Billa alone, he wasn’t sure if he was trying to be reassuring or enticing, and her cheeks flushed slightly. “Should I get Oin?”

“No no,” she tore her gaze from his, “I think I will just go to bed. A little extra sleep will do me wonders I think.” She stepped back to look at him without craning her neck. “Tell Balin and Dwalin for me, will you?”

“Of course Billa, sleep well.” He watched her leave and head towards her apartment and he set off for the dining hall.

 “Where is Billa?” was the first thing Thorin heard when he stepped into the Hall and sat at the middle of the head table, “She said she wasn’t hungry.”

Simultaneously the Company turned to look at their King.

“Not hungry,” it’s Bofur who voices their concern “She was hungry after riding down the river ON TOP of a barrel. Hobbits don’t get ‘not hungry’.”

“Well, she said she wasn’t hungry and I was hardly going to press her about it now was I? She looked unwell the entire meeting.” several of the surrounding dwarves nodded in agreement, they had noticed their Burglar’s pale cheeks and the small winces of pain she tried to hide.

“She nearly tore Dain’s head off today, when he argued about what to grow in the spring.” Dwalin threw the Iron Hills Lord a look full of humor. “Didn’t she my Lord?”

“Shove it Ragged Ear.” Dain’s face had flushed to a bright crimson remembering the dressing down he had gotten from the Hobbit girl. “How was I supposed to know that wood ash was good for pastures, tomatoes and apple orchards but would disease potatoes?”

“If Billa was well enough to school you on gardening then surely she is just fine. Leave her in peace; she seemed content to get some extra sleep.”

Though Thorin’s reassurances did not remove their worry they let the topic drop and went on to more pleasant conversation.

 

* * *

 

Billa didn’t know what was wrong with her, she felt like a warg was trying to bite her in two and every time she tried to sit up and light her candle the agony spread up her spine and stole her breath away. Finally deciding that sitting up was a waste of waning energy, she rolled to her side. Perhaps she could reach the matches from a prone position? While shifting and wiggling Billa felt her thighs slip against one another. They seemed slick and brought her motions to a halt to move a hand under her blankets and shift. She could feel the wet spot that was blossoming there. Oh blessed Yavanna, it was her monthly, a monthly that hadn’t appeared in six months, monthly. There seemed to be quite a bit more blood than was normal and definitely a bit more pain. Her breath stopped in her chest again when she tried to turn to her back and she decided that staying still was her best option until this cramp passed and she could get up to tend herself. It would pass, like they always did.

Every minute seemed like an age and the pain only seemed to get worse. She felt her cramps tighten further and her back wind itself into knots. She felt like a Samhain jack o’lantern, like someone was scraping out her insides with a spoon. She felt tears budding in her eyes when she tried to curl tighter and the pain raced up her spine to stop her breathing. She could feel the blood between her legs spreading. This was too much, this was not right.

There was a glow coming under her bedroom door, maybe Balin was still awake in front of the fire? Please let him be awake.

“Balin?” she tried to call out but could only gather enough air to whisper. “Balin?” drawing in more air just made her hurt worse and curling tighter didn’t help. If she was going to be in pain at least her agony would bring her help, a pain tonic, a hot water skin, Valar anything.

“BALIN!” it wasn’t a shout as much as a sob, “BALIN!  **BALIN!!! BALIN!!!!”** he must have been getting ready for bed because when she felt she couldn’t take another deep breath and her tears were flowing down her face, he burst into her room clad in his woolen trousers and under tunic, a lit taper in his hand.

“Billa, what’s wrong?’ he hurried to her bedside, illuminating her pained features when he lit her bedside candle as well “Is it a battle dream? Your head?”

“It hurts Balin, there has to be something wrong.”

He frowned in concern, worried that her infrequent head pains had worsened instead of gotten better. “Where does it hurt lassie? Let me help.”

Billa knew she wouldn’t be able to get the words out and instead used her strength to throw her furs and sheet from her torso, exposing what was surely a spreading stain. But instead of a small spot of blood on her shift there was a crimson stain that seeped into the sheets below her and was spreading across the mattress. Her night shirt was drenched to the knees in a dark crimson wash.

“ **DWALIN!”** Balin roared as soon as he realized what he was looking at, knowing that this was not normal and something was very wrong. **“DWALIN!”** the younger son of Fundin must have already been in bed for he came bursting through the door clad only in short sleeping trousers and an axe in each hand; which he promptly dropped upon seeing his little sister crying in a pool of her own blood.

“Get Oin, Dwalin, get Oin now!” had Dwalin been any less a warrior he surely would have fainted at the sight and caused a great delay in bringing Billa relief. As Balin moved to stroke Billa’s hair and soothe her as best he could Dwalin sprinted out the door and into the hall.

“Oin!” he pounded on the door “OIN!!!!!!!” of course the one person he needed was deaf. He pounded harder and shouted louder  **“OIN OPEN THE DAMN DOOR BEFORE I BREAK IT DOWN!”** and finally the old healer opened the door, experienced enough to already have his leather satchel.

“What in Mahal’s name are you shouting about? It’s the middle of the night? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Billa, she’s- she’s not good.” together they sprinted back down the hall, ignoring the curious heads of their companions looking into the hall to investigate the commotion. Companions who clambered after the two when they rushed back into Dwalin’s apartment.

Oin and Dwalin burst into Billa’s bedroom, the former immediately slamming the door when he sees where the Burglar is bleeding from.

“Oh Billa,” the grey haired dwarf moves to her head, coaxing her to lie on her back “This is not going to be pleasant.”

“I already guessed that Oin! Please you must have something for the pain.” She couldn’t help but cry when he started to draw her shift up above her waist. This was mortifying!

“Shh, now lass. I need to know what is actually going on before I can help. I need you to be honest with me, no matter what I ask.” He took her pained whimper for consent.

“Were you with child, girl? Is it a miscarriage?”  As her face flushed red he was quick to jump back in, “Tis nothing to be ashamed of, losin’ a babe, happens often with dwarrowdams and lovin’ someone is nothing to be ashamed of either.”

“No Oin, I am most certainly not with child. I think I would recall something like that.” Even though it was completely inappropriate, the three assembled dwarrow couldn’t help but be relieved that their little Billa was still innocent and they didn’t have to kill anyone. “When was your last monthly? We talked of it in the early days but I never thought to keep checking on your cycles.”

“Six months,” She whimpered when his hands started to prod at her sore middle, he was getting blood on his fingertips, “Before- before Rivendell.”

“I should have guessed this would happen,” he turned to include Dwalin and Balin in his diagnosis, “between the stress and starvation of the journey Billa’s body knew it wouldn’t be safe to carry a babe and she stopped her cycles but now that she is warm, safe and well fed its restartin’. It’s overcompensating the same way we do when reheating a forge, it put more effort and materials into readying her and that’s making her time expelling it all the worse.” He stopped his prodding to smooth his hand down her navel, checking for where the tension was gathered, “We saw the same thing after we moved to Ered Luin. She’s going to be in a lot of pain for the next few days but we will see her through it.” He turned his full attention back to Billa, “We’re gonna get some things ready to help ease your way lass but I need you to be patient and remember that we are yer family and we love ya.” He kissed her forehead before crossing back to his satchel.

“Balin, fetch Gloin and Bombur, they’re the only ones with wives or daughters and will be of the most use right now. Dwalin” he turned a hard gaze to the warrior “I need you to run a hot bath, very hot, but only six inches deep. We need to clean her up but we can’t have her submerged for long as keeping her body from getting rid of-” he hesitated at Dwalin’s look of poorly hidden revulsion “well you know, will only make it hurt worse. I need you to get her cleaned up while we organize here.”

While Dwalin left to get the water running, ignoring the assembled crowd in his living room, Bombur and Gloin were getting their instructions to get hot water skins and heated sand compresses ready.

Oin started mixing up poppies milk in a large teapot, “Balin clear the rest of those idiots out of here; this is none of their damn business!”

Balin left the bedroom to shoo out the assembled company.

“We need all of you out of here.” He was firm, “Now.”

“But what about Billa?” Fili and Kili asked where they shared the small sofa,

“Billa will be fine, but she needs privacy.” He raised his hands to silence more protests “Out. Now!” and he aggressively herded them into the hall, “Dwalin, it’s clear!” he signaled his brother to carry Billa to the wash room.

With Billa held in his arms the warrior put Billa in the water, stripping her shift when she was settled. “It’s gonna be alright Billa.” He crooned when she protested him seeing her naked. “You’ve tended my wounds now let me tend yours, little sister.” Gently and methodically he squeezed the sponge on her aching back and abdomen, cleaning the blood and soothing some of her aches. “Thank you Nadad.” she whispered into his beard and despite the pain they smiled just a little.

Out in the hallway the rest of the Company, minus Thorin, loitered. “Do you think she’s ok?” Ori was pale and drawn as he questioned his brothers, “Do you think it’s her head?” Neither Dori nor Nori knew what to say to reassure him but when Balin stepped out with a load of bloody sheets in his arms the entire group began shouting, demanding answers and to see Billa.

“Quiet!” Thorin’s booming voice called from the entrance to the royal wing where he walked with Dain at his side, “What in Mahal’s forges is going on?” he surveyed the group but his gaze stopped on Balin, “And who the hell is bleeding?”

“Its Billa!” cried Fili and Kili swarming their Uncle, “Dwalin woke up Oin, and then Balin kicked us out but those are Billa’s sheets Uncle! You said she was fine!” their tone turned accusatory.

“And she is!” Balin’s shout cowed everyone into silence “Billa will be just fine, if you’d shut your gobs for ten flaming minutes and let me explain.” The adviser turned to Thorin and Dain each had a female relative; one a sister he had helped raise from infancy, the other a wife of many decades. “Billa is just suffering from her body” he struggled to make it vague enough to understand but delicate enough not to make the younger dwarrow faint, “putting itself back on schedule.”

Thorin and Dain’s eyebrows disappeared into their hairlines, “It’s best to leave it be boys,” Dain reasoned with Durin’s heirs, “this falls firmly under things you most certainly do not want to know.” Thorin shuddered at his side. “Allow me to take those to the wash room for you Balin. There will be less panic that way, I think.” Balin gave his load to Dain gratefully.

“Oh Mahal,” Thorin and Balin shared a groan, the mountain would panic if they thought something was wrong with Billa.  She had steadily become more popular than any of the other heroes of Erebor. “Nori, Bifur if you could kindly make sure that no one wanders this corridor, including the guards, we may be able to keep people from thinking someone is dying.”

“Fili and Kili shut up and take Ori to bed. Billa is fine. You will be able to see her in the morning but right now she needs privacy and quiet.” The three young dwarrow proceeded to sulk toward the princes rooms, though they looked distinctly relieved at Thorin’s words.

“Balin, go back to Billa.” The elder looked relieved to go back to his charge. “Everyone else sit down and shut up or leave. I will not have people starting rumors about Billa when she needs quiet and privacy, in this more than anything.” So Thorin settled in with his comrades to wait, calmly explaining to them what was wrong with Billa now that the boys were gone. They were just lucky it wasn’t Dis on a moons cycle or they would have all been shaved for the fuss and stupidity they were causing.

* * *

 

Once Billa was clean Dwalin drained the bath and left her to sit for a moment so he could retrieve a clean shift and check in with everyone else.

“How is she feeling now Dwalin?” Oin questioned.

“She’s tired and still in pain and absolutely mortified but a bit better. She stopped crying after sitting in the heat for a bit.” Dwalin had never had a female relative outside of his mother and this was uncomfortable new territory for him.

“That’s good, now get her dressed” he shoved a night shirt at him “and bring her back. We’ll dose her and set up the heat packs and she’ll be fine as long as we keep giving her pain killers for the next few days.”

“Silri never had a cycle this.” Gloin was clearly shaken from the pain Billa was in, “not even when she miscarried on the road.”

Bombur grunted in agreement while he tended the teapot of poppies milk, neither his wife nor daughters had ever bled so much.

“Will she always be like this?” Balin asked Oin as they remade the bed.

“No,” the Healer reassured “this will be the worst of them but she will need to keep close track of them. Her future cycles are bound to be irregular and she will still need pain tonics to help her through some parts.” Balin looked relieved to know his sister would not have to suffer like this again.

“And here we are.” Dwalin’s voice was jovial as he stepped into the bedroom with Billa in his arms. “We have pain tonics and hot water skins aplenty my dear. We will have you right as rain and sleeping like an elvish babe!”

Even though her face was drawn tight with pain and she was embarrassed Billa did not hold back her quiet chuckle.

“Thank you all so much. I didn’t mean to cause such a fuss, it’s really nothing.”

“Shut your lying gob Missy,” Oin groused and handed her a tonic, “We all have female relatives here and we know that a recovering cycle is nothing to push through. Now settle down and don’t fret, we’ll see you through this.” Maybe it was the relief of knowing she was taken care of or the tonic worked that fast, but Billa was asleep quickly with Balin stroking her hair and Dwalin sitting at her bedside while the rest crept from the bedroom.

“Will she be ok Oin?” Dori asked where he sat with Nori and Bofur.

“Aye, she’ll be fine. It’s just the last stage of her recovery. We are dwarrow males; we couldn’t have guessed the repercussions such a journey would have on her.”

“Thank you for taking care of her, all of you.” The relief on Thorin’s face was palpable and the company’s surprise clear when he went and knocked foreheads with Oin, Gloin and Bombur, who barely hid their surprise at such a show of affection from their King.

The following morning found Billa visited by most of the Company. Ori brought her the books she had been working on from the Library so she could keep busy. Fili and Kili brought her lunch and tried to her lift her spirits with jokes and stories of the mischief they had caused during Thorin’s meetings. Bombur even stopped by with a cup of hot chocolate; which he confessed to hoarding from every merchant he could find. Thorin stopped by her bedside in the evening with fresh hot water and a book from his library on the traditions and culture of dwarrow. He offered to read it to her while she rested and she was glad for the company and the soothing quality of his voice, which lulled her off to sleep as the hours passed. Though she muttered a sleepy thank you when he left, Thorin steadfastly kept himself from dropping a kiss on her brow, only saying that he was “at her service.” When the King left her bedroom several hours after he entered he chose to ignore the poignant looks he got from Balin and Dwalin.

“Thorin,” Balin called to him as his hand touched the door to the hall, “if you hurt her we will skin you and make you into shoes.”

Thorin felt his cheeks heat up in response to their threat and only grunted his agreement in return.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I totally made up the dwarf courting info. Its a plot device, deal with it.  
> 2\. Bilbo was not anywhere near the top of the line for Thain, again a plot device. Cause Billa deserves to be a goddamn Princess!

** Chapter 16 **

Even with Bifur and Nori running interference and Dain’s valiant attempt at discretion the mountain populous still noticed Billa’s absence over the next week. So much so that when she rejoined the Dining Hall for breakfast the assembled men and dwarves nearly swarmed her with well wishes and small tokens of good health. Before she made it to the head table she had been given teas and tonics and carved icons of the Valar for healing and deep sleep. It was likely that if Thorin had been at breakfast and witnessed the uproar he would not have brought Billa with him for daily rounds.

“It’s good to see you up again, my Lady!”

“ ** _Amadel_** you look wonderful today.”

“We are honored to show you our progress Miss Baggins.”

Billa was overwhelmed at the reception she received as they went from place to place in the mountain. This was the first time she had accompanied Thorin on his rounds as much of her time was spent isolated in library since few in the mountain had the skills necessary for restoring the books. She had no idea it would be like this!

“Billa.” Thorin beckoned her towards the drafting table he was working at with Bofur and one of Dain’s engineers.

“Thank you all so much!” she gave her excuses to the dwarrow that surrounded her, “I am so pleased to have talked with you all and I hope we can chat again soon.” Finally the crowd around her dispersed and she could make her way to Thorin.

“Take a look at this Billa.” He gestured to the blueprints and she crowded forward, his hand moving to the small of her back, explaining the process they would use to shore up existing supports without starting from scratch.

That was another thing that had changed recently, Thorin seemed so much more alive. He laughed at dinner and even smiled. They weren’t the half smiles from the quest that were a slight parting of lips and flash of white teeth they were wide grins that split his face with mirth. They made him slightly breathtaking. He looked so happy, so much more relaxed and he was so gentle and kind. Fili and Kili had been surprised the first time he pulled them into a hug in public but were becoming used to the daily displays of affection from their Uncle. Billa wasn’t sure what to make of Thorin’s displays with her but if he needed the reassurance the she did not fear him she was happy to give it. While she was indisposed he would read to her, his voice a deep rumble that washed over her like the purring of a great cat, he would cup her cheeks and caress her hair. Even now his hand was a source of warmth at her back.

“Billa” Thorin interrupted her musings by whispering in her ear, his breath a soft tickle down her cheek; she turned to look at him and instead met the hard planes of his chest as he leaned towards her. “You seem very distracted my Burglar.” Billa felt heat rise in her cheeks and something shifted in Thorin’s gaze, his eyes tracing the blush as it traveled up her cheekbones.

“I’m sorry Thorin,” if her reply was breathless surely it was from the exertion of the day and nothing more. Nothing more. “I was distracted. Could you explain it again?” So Billa let herself be drawn into a conversation on metallurgy and grades of construction stone. His hand stayed at her back the entire day.

 

* * *

 

Fili had been looking for his brother all morning, they were supposed to be overseeing inventory of new imports from Mirkwood but instead he found Kili leaning against the wall at the edge of the construction into the Guild halls.

“Kili!” he had prepared a scathing lecture for his wayward brother.

“Yes Fili?”

It died on his lips when he realized Kili hadn’t even looked at him, “What are you staring at?”

“Oh, nothing.” He shrugged his shoulders but continued to watch the crowd in front of him, a crowd that contained their Uncle and Burglar, an Uncle that had his hand resting on the lower back of their Burglar. 

“Is he-?”

“Yes.”

“Since when-?”

“No idea.”

Hmm. Fili decided that puzzling out his Uncle’s actions was far more important and entertaining than inventory. Through the course of the afternoon the Princes followed Thorin and Billa on their rounds taking careful note of every time Thorin glanced at the Hobbit by his side and recording Billa’s reactions.

“You would think” Kili was talking around the chicken leg that was his lunch, “that Billa wouldn’t be so happy to have him touch her. He did throw her off a wall two months ago.” He put the remnants of the fowl down and started chuffing his ale, “I’m still shocked she lets us touch her.”

Despite his atrocious, even by dwarfish standards, table manners Fili knew his brother was right, but Billa had always been different from what he was used to in terms of forgiveness, mainly that she gave it before three decades had passed. “She forgave Thorin for his terrible attitude didn’t she? So why not this too?” He poked at his chips sullenly.

“I don’t know Fili, I just don’t know if this is ok.” Kili tried to find the right words to describe his worry. “He’s done this before, you know, with Frilga the weaver, Destra that jeweler and don’t forget Banneth who reeked like her apothecary. He finds someone for a bit of bed sport, sweeps them off their feet and two weeks later it’s like they never existed. I just don’t want him to hurt her again. She can’t just be a fling like those dams were. Whoever tries for Billa must be sincere.”

Fili nodded his head in agreement, their Burglar was special and anyone would be lucky to win her heart.

“Then let’s make sure he doesn’t.” Fili’s voice was firm, “We’re her brother’s right? Let’s do our jobs then. But first, we’re going to need more information. We need to know everything about this; his intentions and affections and how Billa feels too.”

“That’s a heavy order brother,” Kili was smiling at the prospect of routing out some dirt on Thorin, “but I think we know just the dwarrow to help us out.”

The two exchanged mischievous looks over their secluded lunch table. “Nori!” and like magic the tri pointed dwarf dropped down next to them, “My nose is itchin’ did you boys need something?”

 

* * *

 

The morning was like any other in the Mountain of Erebor. Men and dwarves were hard at work clearing rubble and shoring up columns and supports while women cleaned the cleared areas. It was trying work and long and dirty but for the first winter in a long time the people felt a sense of hope. They were not suffering the ravages of winter on the Lake and the Dwarves were back in their ancestral home. Even with the food rationing another good day was dawning on the Lonely Mountain.

Billa and Ori had another long day ahead of them restoring the old treatise section they had cleared out last week. Thorin and Balin were hoping they could use them to reopen trade with old allies come spring. There was much that the Mountain and Lake Men would not be able to supply themselves with and Mirkwood could only do so much, they would need horses, draft animals and livestock from Rohan, smiths, engineers and workers from the Grey and Iron Hills and textiles and lumber from the people around the Rhun Sea. The list was endless and grew every day. While having literal hills of gold was a sure way to get what you wanted Balin insisted on looking towards the future and creating a stronger and sustainable Erebor which, for Billa and Ori, meant lots of dusting and LOTS of writing.

They were just coming back from the stacks each carrying several large tomes that needed restoration when Billa noticed it, a small piece of grubby parchment that had been stuck under her candle holder. She was certain she hadn’t left it there last night nor would any member of the company have left it, they had breakfast and dinner together every day. She turned it over and over in her hands hoping to puzzle out its purpose when Ori interrupted her.

 “You know, usually when people leave you notes they are meant to be opened, not fondled.” He was giving her a sly grin from his desk a quill halfway to his parchment.

“I know that.” She huffed “I just can’t imagine why someone would leave a note.” deciding there was nothing for it Billa opened the tan paper and was surprised at what was written inside.

“Oh.” She moved her fingertips to her cheeks, maybe Ori wasn't paying attention? That was, of course, too much to ask for as Ori had been paying very close attention and couldn't help but become more curious at Billa’s slight flushing and poor attempt to cover her pinked cheeks.

“Well go on then. What’s it say?” Of course he wanted to know what it said!

“It says” and oh wasn't this just the most embarrassing thing, “that I am the most beautiful treasure under the mountain.” Billa couldn't bring her eyes up to look at Ori’s face positive that he must be breaking out in huge grin at her expense but as the moment stretched on and her friend stayed silent she looked up from the note. Ori wasn't smiling. Ori wasn't laughing. Ori looked upset?

“Oh surely it’s nothing to be upset about!” she tittered on nervously “I mean, I know I’m no dwarrow beauty but surely having an admirer isn't that strange?” her rambling only seemed to make Ori more upset.

“Billa you idiot.” he interrupted her awkward chatter “You are one of the most beautiful females in all of Arda.”

“Then what,” her patience was wearing thin at this point, “could possibly be the problem?” her hands were at her hips and her eyebrows were arched and this was only the beginning if he didn't shape up in few moments!

“Someone is trying to flirt with you” Ori’s face was slowly tightening in anger “and they didn't ask permission!”

So their morning in the Library came to a grinding halt as Ori grabbed Billa’s wrist and bade her to come along leading her deeper into the mountain. They passed the miners and the cleaning crews and only stopped when they reached the fledgling Armory and Dwalin, who was drilling some of Dain’s soldiers and the Laketown men.

“What’s brought you two out of the Library so soon?” Dwalin’s voice was curious for Billa and Ori’s dedication to the great room’s restoration was borderline fanatical to the rest of the Company. They left only to sleep and eat and occasionally when Thorin commandeered one of them to transcribe something.

“This.” Ori stole the note from Billa who had clutched it close to her stomach and put it in Dwalin’s hands to read.

Dwalin seemed to read the note once, then once again and possibly third time considering how long he was looking at it and his face went from stiffly held indifference to a simmering boil of upset.

“You,” he pointed a large knuckle duster covered finger at Ori, “will not let her out of your sight and you” this time his instructions were for Billa “will be having dinner with Balin and I tonight. You clearly don’t understand how dwarrow romance works and we’ll not have ye struttin’ about the mountain grinnin’ like a fool over this. Understood?” Even though Billa was tempted to remind him that she was a hobbit grown and quite capable of taking care of herself, she was loathe to stop her newly dubbed “big brothers” from acting as such.

Dwalin took in their shared looks of acquiescence. “Good. Now get back to the Library. And the rest of you” he roared over his shoulders at the Iron Hills soldiers who were trying very unsubtly to listen in, “Give me twenty more form drills! If ye’ve got time to gossip like old biddies you’ve got too much time!”

Billa grabbed Ori and headed back to the library, excited to learn something new about her adopted family’s culture over dinner with her big brothers.

 

* * *

 

Dinner had been a pleasant affair, had being the key word, until Dwalin and Balin insisted on talking about the note.

“It’s not that having an admirer is a bad thing Billa.” her eldest brother lectured while cutting up his portion of roast, “It’s just that having a secret admirer is.” He kept saying that phrase, like somehow sheer repetition would make Billa understand it. Which it wouldn't.

“So dwarrows only court in public and only profess admiration to the one they wish to marry?” And these were the questions the two seemed unwilling to answer for every time that Billa asked for specifics on courting they clammed up like a sealed dwarf door.

“Not necessarily.” Dwalin was not eating, wasn't even bothering to pretend to eat. He just sat there and glared at his food like it was the thing flirting with Billa. “Dwarrows have complex courting rituals and the main goal is marriage but this type of courting, leaving secret notes and sneaking about behind the watchful eyes of family, is considered less than honorable.”

“So what you mean to say” Billa hedged gently “is that someone is trying to have a dalliance with me?” At the word dalliance Dwalin gripped his fork so hard it bent in half.

“Yes.”

Oh, well. “Are dalliances a bad thing among dwarrows?” It certainly wasn't frowned upon the Shire; tweens were encouraged to give their affections freely but carefully. It was understood that to know what you wanted and needed in a spouse one had to experiment with different personalities and that meant experimenting with different hobbits.

“For dwarrows, no. For you, yes.” Dwalin growled from his seat having abandoned his ruined fork and the pretense that he was interested in food.

“Now, now” Balin hedged hoping to cut of the tirade he could see churning up Billa’s throat, “we know that you are a hobbit past your majority and can make your own decisions and no, dwarrows do not think any less of dams for having relations outside a marital bed. We don’t even have a Khuzdul term for a bastard child. Our children are so rare that even a babe out of wedlock is considered a blessing.” Now that was certainly not accepted in the Shire. “But dalliances are not meant for the young, which you very much are, but for those who have already devoted themselves to their craft or have no intention of seeking a life partner. While there is no shame in it, it is certainly not polite to ask a girl barely past her majority for bed sport.” And hearing that word from Balin’s mouth brought a mortifying look onto Billa’s face and none of them dared break the silence that descended until it was time to take their plates back to the kitchens.

“So just to be clear,” Billa knew her cheek was not going to be appreciated “no dalliances until I’m older?”

The dishes in Balin hands started to shake slightly, “Not until we're both dead.” Dwalin just let his head thump onto their dining room table.

* * *

 

With the quiet intervention of Nori and Dwalin the admiring notes Billa was receiving eventually tapered off until they stopped arriving all together.  

Billa couldn't help but be angry at her adopted brothers for their interference.

“I couldn’t help but find it flattering.” Billa argued back after Kili told her, quite plainly, that any such underhanded ways should be insulting her instead. “I've never had an admirer before.” While the admission hurt a little their surprised looks soothed something in Billa’s heart. “Never?” Bofur seemed disbelieving, “None of the lads in the shire ever paid you any mind?”

And maybe if Billa hadn't been so embarrassed by the lack of regard she had been paid by most everyone in Hobbiton she would have noticed how the rest of her friends had stopped their side conversations and were listening in and how a certain Dwarf King was staring at her in poorly concealed interest.

“Well no.” Billa attempted to explain the very unusual circumstances of her childhood. “Hobbits don’t start to form romantic interests until we reach our tweens and by then I was far too deep in my schooling to have time for such things nor would my Grandfather have approved of me doing any walkabouts anyway. I finished my schooling after the Fell Winter when Mother died and the grief was too fresh for me to think of such a thing as a summer romance. I might have been offered a courtship when I came of age but the only suitors to knock were ones interested in my inheritance. When my Father died after that I was too busy running the Baggins’ interests for such things.”

Her dwarves seemed sad at hearing the burden of her youth and though they had known about her parent’s deaths, she had never confided in them about her restrictive upbringing.

“What craft were you apprenticing in?” Ori of course fixated on her extensive education throughout her fauntling and tween years. “To be spending so much time at it so young it must have been difficult.”

“Well it wasn't a craft per say but my Grandfather insisted I start early on the off chance my Uncle continued to have no heirs. Though we all knew he would eventually, a second born hasn’t been Thain in several centuries.” Billa petered off her explanation when none of them seemed to know what a Thain was, except maybe Balin who had started gaping at her, open mouthed, like a fish as soon as she mentioned the word.

“Your Grandfather” Billa had never heard Balin’s voice crack before so he must be quite startled, “is the Thain of the Shire? Your Grandfather is Gerontius Took?”

“Well yes, of course.” Hadn’t Billa ever mentioned it? Apparently she hadn’t. Though they knew many details about her family and life back in Hobbiton that was one fact she had left out and though Balin did not contribute to the conversation he knew that the rest of the Company was very interested in this new information on their Burglar.

“Billa what exactly is a Thain?” Ori asked, unable to leave the conversation alone. Everyone else was eating their lunch slowly in order to stay for the answer.

“Well not much really. He mediates arguments between families and of course heads the Bounders and Sheriffs and ensures we have adequate protection over the winter months. He even leads negotiations with other races, like when Ered Luin was looking for new seed stock he bartered the deal for one of your smiths to visit our Farthings every year.” Billa was rather proud of that fact now that she knew just how difficult it had been for her dwarrows to create alliances with most other settlements.

“Sounds a lot like Uncle” Fili reasoned.

“I thought you said Hobbit’s didn't have Kings” Kili pointed out crossly.

“We don’t, you silly boys!” she insisted “We just have the Thain.”

This was clearly not enough of an explanation for Fili and Kili or anyone else at the table and while Billa seemed happy to end the conversation and ridiculous comparison of Thains and Kings, Balin felt no similar compunction.

“The position of Thain is much like a King in our eyes Billa. All the duties you explained are ones that Thorin also holds and both are passed through family lines. You can see where the similarities lie.”

While Billa may be willing to concede such a fact she still found it ridiculous and proceeded to explain just why she found it so.

“Mahal!” Kili gave an alarmed shout that interrupted her in the middle or her refusal of how holding a council on crop rotation was anything like Thorin arguing with the men of Dale on their fields. “That means you’re a Princess.” Thorin spit his wine out on the table while Dori choked on his chicken.

“I most certainly am not!” Billa shouted with a surprising volume given her size.

“But don’t you see it Billa? You said you were in line for being Thain, you were schooled in it. You are just like me and Fili.” While Kili seemed so excited he was nearly vibrating out of his seat Fili looked on in awe.

“That is absolutely ridiculous! I was third in line behind my mother and Uncle, second once she passed, but Uncle Isumbras has my twin cousins Fortinbras and Ferumbras now. So as you can see the responsibility of Thain lays with them and their future children not me. How ridiculous” she muttered “me a princess!” She gathered up her things before anyone else could comment on the matter and took her leave of the meal and the idiocy of her friends.

“Oh no,” Bofur moaned, interrupting Balin’s conversation with Dori on using this connection to negotiate trade with the Shire, “we kidnapped a damn Princess.”

The entire table lost itself to the chaos.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most everyone gets drunk and honest and Thorin finally finds his courage.

** Chapter Seventeen **

Fili and Kili were determined to get to the bottom of htier Uncles shenanignans and had prepared for their interrogation accordingly. They had commandeered Thorin’s rooms and together dragged in a table and three chairs to serve them, with a little help from Nori they managed to secure a large carafe of wine from the Royal Stores. Now they played the waiting game, sitting in their Uncle’s rooms in silence until he came back from the day’s duties.

“Good evening Uncle.” Fili and Kili sat at the table lazily swirling glassed of the dark wine. Thorin could tell they were trying to be intimidating, they had looked very similar when playing dress up in his and Dwalin’s old clothes and issuing orders as the “Mountain King” and his “Fearless Head Guard”.

“Boys, it is very late and I am very tired could this not wait until tomorrow?” And though they could hear and see the weariness in him, neither of the Princes seemed willing to let Thorin out of this conversation.

“No it cannot.” Fili replied archly, channeling all of his lessons on intimidation and interrogation from Balin. “What are you intentions towards Billa Baggins?” Their looks dared him to deny his growing affection for the Burglar.

Thorin put his head in his hands, he was not nearly drunk enough for this and told his nephews so.

“Don’t worry Uncle; we brought enough wine to get even you tipsy.” So they proceeded to ply the new King with wine and wasted the evening talking of home and family and happier times.

It was past midnight when Thorin had finally imbibed enough to speak his heart about Billa.

“Don’t you see it boys?” Thorin was waxing poetic from where he lay on the floor, “She is so beautiful and fierce! It’s not just that she killed for me, even though she did and was extremely impressive in doing so. She died for me!” he tilted his head back, dark hair sweeping the floor, to look at his nephews who were still seated at the table, not processing the extremely amuse looks on their faces. “She knew I was mad when she gave away the Arkenstone but not only did she give it but she came back to me, she refused to leave me to my madness.”

Neither Fili nor Kili knew how to respond to his speech, he had never talked about his actions while under the gold lust with them before. Silence befell the small party as they continued to nurse their cups.

“Your grandmother would have liked her.” He whispered to his wine. “She always told me that true love wasn’t fighting for someone’s heart but trusting them enough to give them yours, completely. That if you are a good match then you will be stronger together than you ever were apart.” Thorin knew he looked like a love-struck lad, but he couldn’t stop the wistfulness that tempered his tone, “Her smile makes my heart flutter, her strength makes me feel safe. Her beauty outshines a million Arkenstones. Oh Mahal, my heart aches for her!”

“Oh Uncle” Kili rose from the table to stand over Thorin, “you are completely hammered and we ought to get you to bed.”  

It took both of them to lever their drunk pile of Uncle off the floor and  into his bed, while he continued to talk about Billa and how he would lend her his strength for all their days. “I guess there’s nothing for it Kili” Fili whispered to his brother while untying Thorin’s boots, “he’s going to need our help not to bollocks this up completely.”

For just a moment Thorin’s world stopped and his breath stuttered in his chest, even drunk he had heard his Nephews conversation “Will you really?” and he looked at them so beseeching they couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes we will you drunk fool, there are no better hands than yours for our hobbit.”

So Thorin fell deep into dreams of a fiery tempered lass, with curls of copper wielding a glowing elfish blade with a smile on his lips.

* * *

It was afternoon when Nori and Bofur cornered her in the Library and, ignoring her protests, dragged her away.

“What is the meaning of all this?” She  demanded when they dropped her into an armchair in front of Bofur’s fire, after they had dragged her kicking, screaming and at one point carried as a dead weight over Nori’s shoulder through the mountain.

“We mean,” Nori started. “To get you drunk” Bofur finished plunking down three cups and a jug of wine onto the table.

Billa had been working in the library tirelessly for days and it had been a month since the coronation. She eyed the wine in her cup suspiciously.

“Then I suggest you get started,” She said raising her glass to her friends, “it will take at least a gallon of this pig swill to have any effect on me. I grew up on Gamgee moonshine after all!” so she downed her cup and slammed it to the table top, demanding another.

“He’s just very regal, you know?” Billa slurred out her answer to Bofur. Nori and Bofur shared another smile over the table, while it had taken a surprising amount of wine; they were pleased with their Burglar’s loose lips.

“Yes!” Billa pointed her cup at her companions, “with his long hair and that rumbly voice. Very majestic. Just like the princes in the stories.”

The stories, huh? What kind of stories was the Hobbit reading anyway that had rumbly voiced princes that did great deeds of daring?

“Well the smutty kinds, obviously!” drunk Billa hadn't a problem with making Bofur and Nori sputter wine all over themselves.

“So our Hobbit has a crush.” The thief continued to wheedle Billa, “on the King Under the Mountain nonetheless!”

“It’s not like I could help but find him attractive” Billa was quick to defend herself “in the beginning I found most of you attractive.”

Nori was surprised at Billa’s admission, Bofur not so much he had seen the awkward silences and blushes at the start of their journey and was grateful the attention had turned into familial love and respect.

“You are all just so different from Hobbits, so much harrier and muscley and” she sighed “majestic.”

Oh Mahal please let her only be talking about Thorin, please please please.

“What I would lie to know is how you could have possibly forgiven him? “Bofur’s question was tinged with melancholy “how have you forgiven any of us? We were terrible to you! We ignored you and belittled you, Mahal, Thorin tried to kill you! How can you stand us?”

Billa sat, letting the silence stretch as she formed her answer, this was a question she had struggled with often in the aftermath of the battle and it had taken many late nights, cups of tea and pipe weed for her to divine her own reasons. She hadn’t yet explained her motivations to her family.

“At first I wished I had died.” Bofur and Nori sat silently, neither willing to breathe too loudly lest it interrupt her. “I hoped that I would die in the battle, a knife wound would have surely been a more merciful death than a broken heart, but I didn’t die and when I woke up the pain in my heart was still as sharp, despite the great deeds I had done.” Billa ignored the moisture gathering in her eyes, “Those first few nights I thought of ending it myself, it wouldn’t have taken much you know, an extra-large dose of pain tonics and it would have felt like falling asleep.” She didn’t need to look at them to know they were shocked at her honesty. “But I couldn’t do it, I refused to die and allow people to think I was ashamed of my actions, to let them think that I thought I was wrong. I was right!” her voice rose suddenly “I was right to steal the Arkenstone and save you all. I was right and I was so angry!” despite her intoxication Billa started to pace the chamber, her steps wavering slightly. “You had claimed me as family and I saved you multiple times and then you cast me out like I was nothing. I have been a hobbit all my life but I had never felt so small as I did then like I was worth so little. I hated all of you. But that just hurt more because I still loved you all deep down and even though you were my nightmares I still wanted it to be my dwarves that held me when I woke.”

Billa gathered her courage and for the first time since she started her explanation looked at her friends. “That’s how I knew I would any of you if you asked. How could I withhold anything in my power to give, if you asked? I had already given my home, my life and I know I would give the pieces of my heart if only you asked it of me. That’s how I forgave all of you.”

Bofur and Nori both had tears welling in their eyes, they knew Billa had been devastated by the actions before the battle but to hear how it had torn her to pieces and yet she found the strength and courage to trust them again was astounding.

“As for Thorin, I didn’t mean to find him attractive in anything more than a vague sense of appreciation but he has changed so much since the battle, he is a little less heavy easier to smile. I’m not sure I ever knew the real Thorin in the first place, I knew him as a warrior and a leader but now I’ve seen him as an Uncle, a King, as a friend. I think it was impossible for me to be attracted to someone who wasn’t complete but I rather like these parts of him he kept hidden before. I trust Thorin.”

Bofur and Nori didn’t know what to say to their Burglar after her passionate confession and busied themselves with refilling their cups instead. But drunk Billa couldn’t let the heavy moment stay, “It helps that his arse is fantastic.”

They decided to pretend they hadn’t heard that.

* * *

 

The King and Burglar continued their dance around each other, one gifting innocent yet protective touches the other leaning into the warmth and strength offered. It was all very tentative, Dain called it pussy footing, and was a great source of amusement for the people under the mountain. But one day after dinner Thorin found his courage, finally.

Thorin had dressed in his best clothes, which meant the cleanest, a dark blue tunic and black pants with his customary boots; he took extra care with his hair tying it back into a low ponytail to show his strong neck and shoulders. He waited until Billa was almost finished with dinner, which meant that the entire company and entire mountain were also in attendance, to approach her.

“Uh huh.” He stood in front of her spot at the table surrounded by the Ri and Ur families, their conversation on knitting patterns slowly petered in lieu of their curiosity.

“I was wondering, Billa,” Thorin was most certainly not shifting his weight like a prepubescent whelp with sweaty palms, “if you would like to take a walkabout.” She stared at him a fork halfway to her mouth, silent.

“With me, I mean, tonight.” dear Mahal he was rambling, “If you are available?”

He watched her lean forward and look down the table towards Dwalin and Balin, her eyebrows clearly questioning and whatever she interpreted from her pseudo-big brothers must have been acceptable because she acquiesced.

“I would love to Thorin. We could leave now if you’re finished?” He was grateful for her offer to escape the stares of his people and the possible interrogations that could spring up if they waited.

“That would be perfect.” He watched her rise from the table and offered her his arm, which she took with a smile and together they left the dining hall headed for the long hallways of Erebor.

The room exploded into conversations and thrown money bags as soon as the door closed behind them.

Their walk took them through the same hallways they walked in the day time, but with most people at dinner and the work finished for the day their route echoed with silence, they were both surprised at how easy it was to fill it.

“I still don’t understand how two boys managed to steal that much honey without the cooks noticing.” Thorin had been telling Billa of the time he and Frerin had covered Nain, Dain’s father, in honey and goose feathers when he was visiting the mountain.

“Oh I’m sure the cook noticed but Grandfather and Gror had a great rivalry from their boyhoods that continued on between Thrain and Nain and even Dain and I had our tussles when we were young. Though having superior numbers certainly aided me more than once.”

“Really that explains everything about Fili and Kili.” Billa chuckled after another story of Thorin’s boyhood mischief. “You were all much like my Took cousins; they insisted on putting sugar in my Sindarian teacher’s boots, Grandfather was livid and had to send for an elf from Rivendell to finish my tutelage as no hobbit would take the job.”

Thorin stopped their walk in a dark hallway near the Company’s hallway and moved his hand up to finger the bead in Billa’s hair.

“I recall Balin telling me of your gift for languages.” He stroked the iron with one fingertip “I can only imagine how grateful Ori has been to have your translation skills, I know he did not have tutors in any of the elfish languages.”

She laughed, “Yes, it has been very useful. He restores the ones the ones in Khuzdul and I take the ones in Quenya and Sindarian, we split the tomes in Westron that need restoration. It is working well so far.” Billa couldn’t take her eyes off his large hands as they started to comb through more of her hair.

“Is that something you would wish,” he leaned down to whisper in her hair, “to learn Khuzdul? And iglishmek?”

Billa moved her head back so quickly one of Thorin’s rings caught in her curls, “But I thought it was a secret.”

He chuckled at her expression of hidden want, “It is if you are not a dwarf and for all that you lack a beard, you are certainly a dwarf.”

“I would love to!” she squealed.

Thorin was surprised at the blinding smile she turned on him and the two bands of iron that encircled his torso. “We can start after dinner tomorrow, if you like?”

“That would make me very happy, Thorin. Thank you.”

 And the two strolled back towards Billa’s rooms where he dropped her off into the care of her brothers.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul  
> iglishmek - hand language  
> hizun e gholt - plate of boar/pig  
> Namin - kiss  
> Numum - kisses

** Chapter 18 **

 

Billa walked to Thorin’s room excited to start her first iglishmek lesson with her suitor. They had started Khuzdul last week, easy things like greetings and foods, proper hobbity phrases. While the harsh growling consonants were difficult she was an excellent student and Thorin was a surprisingly talented teacher. He would make her use her new vocabulary instead of their Westron equivalents, even if she was just asking for ahizun e gholt. Bifur almost swallowed a spoon when she asked how his day was and Bofur and Dwalin were teaching her curses when Balin and Dori weren’t listening.

They had shared a few brief kisses in the dark hallways of Erebor, tucked into alcoves to hide from curious subjects or outside of Billa’s shared apartment at the end of their time together. They were soft, lingering, kisses and each one made Billa’s lips ache for something a little longer, a little deeper but Thorin all ways pulled away before she could figure out what exactly she wanted. She had read enough “bodice rippers” to know that she wanted those deeper kisses that were all tongue and lips and goose bumps but she had no idea how to actually do that. When she thought about using her knowledge in the real world kissing sounded like a potentially awkward situation with chapped lips, possible drool and beard burn. Dear Yavanna what if his nose poked her in the eye? What if her breath was foul? How did people do this, there was so much potential for mishap!

“Are you ready to get started then?” Billa had been so lost in her thoughts of kisses and dark haired dwarfs she had not realized when she reached Thorin’s chambers nor that he had already let her in.

“Of course!” she thanked the Valar when he didn’t comment on her vibrant blush as she took a seat at his small table.

“I cannot teach you from there,” he stood over her and grabbed her hand pulling her up and towards his sofa “to teach iglishmek you need to see the motions as they happen, not the mirror image, which is why you shall be learning here.” He sat himself down and gently guided her onto his lap. For a moment her brain stopped, registering only the wide expanse of his thighs beneath her and the way he moved her to straddle them, her feet bracing on his shins. By the time her brain caught back up he was situating her back to his chest and resting his elbows at her hips.

“Is this a common teaching technique then?” her voice was high and she resolutely kept herself from shifting in her awkwardness, lest she make it more awkward.

He chuckled behind her and bless the Valar it rumbled through her spine and his breath ghosted her ear. “It is certainly not, but I will admit it has the advantage of being the proper view and allows me to hold you.”

And she felt very well held. Every movement of her head had his dark hair brushing her cheeks and shoulders, his chin was a pleasant weight on her left and she could see some of his nose and smile in her peripheral. She felt surrounded, encompassed, cocooned. It was amazing.

“Now look at my hands” he murmured to her, his voice trying to soothe as well as teach “we’re going to learn the motions that go with the phrases of greeting you learned and when you can do those motions perfectly I will teach you some replies.” He put his arms forward and with each flex of his fingers and twist of his wrists the muscles in his forearms would bunch and roll and she could feel his biceps bunching and undulating at her shoulders. “We will stay at half speed and do them faster when you can recognize them individually. Now motion with me, this means Good Morning.”

As the lesson dragged on into the late hours Billa forgot her hyper awareness of Thorin’s body around hers and relaxed into his embrace. She didn’t see the smile that split his lips when she did so but his lips did linger on hers just slightly longer than they had the previous evening when they finally parted ways.

* * *

 

The commotion coming from the hallway was loud and very distracting considering Billa was trying to restore a document that was written in the First Age.

“What in Arda is going on out there?” Billa asked Ori when the walls shook for a third time.

“It’s not a cave in” the Scribe felt the wall “we would have heard the alarms.” Together they went out to investigate.

Instead of finding trolls or a stampede of Rohirrim they saw Thorin sprinting through the hallways that opened up to the central plaza, Fili and Kili behind him, shouting? The chase continued up the levels from, presumably the armory, towards them. They could just make out snatches of words “shave you”, “shortest reign” and something supremely impolite in Khuzdul coming from Fili and Kili and Thorin seemed to be, laughing? Yes, as he rounded another level upwards they could both hear a booming laugh coming from Thorin as he outran his nephews.

The trio had passed many workers on this trail and never slowed down even though most of them stopped and outright stared at the spectacle, but when they finally reached the floor with the Library Thorin slowed down just a little.

“What have you done?” She shouted when he rounded the corner.

“Can’t talk now” the King was breathing heavily but was also smiling like a fool “If they catch me, Fili will be King and that would be a travesty.” Instead of continuing past her and Ori he slowed down even as Fili and Kili gained on him, and when he reached Billa he grabbed her waist in his hands hoisted her over his shoulder and started sprinting as fast as he could.

“I’ve got a hostage, boys!” He shouted behind him, ignoring Billa’s protests and slaps to his back.

“I swear to Mahal Uncle, I will shave you bare.” Fili screamed “EVERY LAST INCH OF YOU!”

Kili’s shout was lost as he put on one great burst of speed and turned a corner, only to duck into an alcove hidden by a statue. He put Billa on the floor and covered her mouth with his hand, pressing her against the far wall until the Prince’s footsteps had faded into silence.

“What is this all about?” she hissed when he drew his hand away, “What did you do?”

“What did I do?” he whispered “Why do you assume it’s my fault?”

Billa just glared at him. And glared.  **And glared.**

“All right!” he relented, she looked a lot like his Amad had while interrogating him and Frerin “They’ve been moving things in my room, my sofa or chairs, in the middle of the night. By the time I wake up everything is different.”

Billa continued to look wholly unimpressed.

“They took my clothes!” he practically screeched, but not actually because he is a King, “these are Dwalin’s!”

Indeed she recognized the clothes as belonging to the taller and broader dwarf, “That explains what they did, but what did you do? Fili threatened to usurp you!”

He leered at her “Now that my Burglar, is something I think you will be very proud of.”

Apparently Thorin had chosen his retribution to be in public and had subsequently sabotaged not only the entire armory but all of the boys’ weapons; gluing Fili’s swords into their scabbards so he could not draw them, whittling down Kili’s arrows so they all snapped in half when the bow was fully drawn and finally he had switched all their daggers out for similarly sized vegetables. He then proceeded to start their morning weapons practice with a live drilling and sparring, which resulted in the two princes being completely humiliated in front of the Iron Hills soldiers and Dwalin. Billa suspected they were mostly upset about Dwalin being a witness.

Billa was actually rather proud and when she told him so his reply was smug, “You didn’t think they got all their mischief from Dis, did you?”

“You do know their retribution will be swift and brutal.” Billa was rather curious about his plans for avoiding the boys.

“And that dear Billa,” he crowded her back against the wall “is why I have recruited you.”

Their banter and his giddiness made Billa feel light headed, her heart pumped faster when his chest brushed against hers. “I think milord,” Thorin actually growled as he tilted his head down towards hers, “that recruitment requires persuasion to join, last time you offered me a 14th of the greatest treasure in the world. Why do you offer me now?” he stopped his lips inches from hers and seemed to contemplate her words.

“How about another lesson in Khuzdul,” his lips ghosted over hers “right now?”

She hummed, looking up into his eyes and even in the dark of their hidden corner she could see their deep blue fixed on her.

 **“Namim.”**  He brought his lips to hers in a chaste press and drew back before Billa could gather her wits and deepen it,  **“Numum.”**  He said and this time when his lips met hers they did not stop, they parted and his tongue gently swiped her lips. She sighed, knowing what he was asking for and so grateful that he would help her fulfill this new desire, and his mouth kept meeting hers and lingering for longer and longer until she opened for him and tentatively traced his lips. He put an arm behind her and cupped her cheek with the other as she scrabbled at his shoulders for something to hold on to as he kissed her deeper and her head got lighter and the small twinge of desire she felt flamed higher. And when Billa wasn’t certain if she needed air or for Thorin to press his body into hers harder, he pulled back.

“I’m in.” she said their foreheads resting together, Thorin’s Khuzdul lessons were worth any trouble she might find.

* * *

Billa was excited to spend another evening with Thorin, since their first iglishmek lesson they had tried to spend two evenings a week together, eating dinner, having another lesson and just spending time together.

“Thorin” she tapped the door with her foot, her arms heavy with their dinner tray, “I brought dinner!”

“One moment!” he called back his voice muffled through the wood.

Billa only waited a minute until the door swung open to a Thorin fresh from a bath, his hair damp and hanging unbraided with a simple tunic and trousers on. Oh Mahal.

Their meal was simple even though he was a King Thorin insisted on eating the same rations as the rest of the mountain but the conversation and company more than made up for any inadequacies of the menu.

“What would you like to do this evening?” it was a good question the couple had found may similar interests to fill their time together outside of Billa’s lessons and kisses often times they would read together or make plans for the coming spring, on those evenings when Thorin was especially tired Billa would read to him with his head in her lap and fall asleep as she played with his hair. From the amount of yawns Thorin had during their meal, it seemed the latter may be in store.

“Actually I was hoping to try something new tonight. If you are amenable?” Her smile did not reveal much to him but Thorin’s gaze turned dark and his eyes hooded, “I most certainly am, Billa dear.”

“Good! Go lay by the fire and I will put the plates in the hall.”

Thorin didn’t know what she had in store for him, but when she returned and straddled his hips he couldn’t hold back his appreciate groan at seeing her above him. She leaned down for a kiss.

She broke away from him gasping and before he could pull her back down ordered him to turn over to his stomach.  While Billa could feel the extent of his distraction she would not relent. “Trust me, this will be very good.”

So he did as he was bid turning over to leave the large expanse of his back for Billa’s use.

“Tell me if anything hurts.” Was the only warning she gave him before rubbing his shoulders and they were so tight! There was a tension deep in the muscle and it would take all of her hand strength of work the knots out, so with a grimace she dug her fingers deep and circled harder. He groaned under her and like a switch had been flipped he went completely limp. She worked until the muscles were like soft butter and Thorin’s breath was deep and even. She leaned back to surveyed the expanse before her, for all the work that she had already done there was still a lot to do and there were two ways to do it, the proper hobbit way of keeping her hands on the outside of his tunic or the much more mischievous temptation of slipping her hands under his untucked hem and massaging his skin directly. ‘Well,’ she thought ‘I am part Took.’ as she started to knead into his lower back, ignoring the way he tensed initially and waiting until he went pliant under her hands once more.

“Oh Mahal,” his voice was slurred and his face was hidden where it lay on his arms “this feels fantastic.”

Her dwarf was ridiculous and he was hers.                  

And that night when Billa crawled into her warm bed, she waited for the sounds of her family to fade into silence and for the first time since the Shire her nimble fingers snuck beneath her small clothes. She imagined larger fingers with callouses instead of her own soft hands while she petted herself and fantasized a coarse beard against her ear. Her climax was sweet and breathy and sleep found her right after.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul - dwarrow language  
> Iglishmek – dwarrow sign language  
> Ghivashel – treasure of all treasures  
> Mizim- jewel  
> Kurdu- heart aka my heart

**Chapter 19**

“Now give me a hip toss!” Dwalin was standing in front of her, one hand on her shoulder the other on her elbow, and her stance mirrored his. He shifted his weight forward allowing her to pivot and bring her back to his chest and her arm wrapped round his. Squatting down, putting her weight on the balls of her feet she pulled Dwalin farther forward bringing him over her and with a quick motion she popped her hips into his thighs and brought him tumbling over.

“Oomph” he landed on his back, his chin carefully tucked towards his chest. “That was good!” he crowed from the ground. “Let’s try it at full speed!”

Billa had begun her hand to hand training four weeks prior when Dwalin unceremoniously dragged her out of bed before the sky was even lit. She would never be able to best an opponent in regular hand to hand combat so Dwalin and Nori had conspired to teach her a martial art from Harad, a southern country. It used balance manipulation to overpower an opponent using their own balance and it was perfect for a hobbit like Billa.

“Another!” Dwalin kept running her though her drills, hip tosses and leg sweeps, chokes and joint lock each move designed to give her the advantage over a larger opponent. Practice every day had not made Billa an expert, she wouldn’t even term herself proficient but each day she got a little stronger, a little faster and sometimes when they mock-sparred she would feel that perfect shifting of balance and would land a throw.

 “Give me ten more sets of each and you can wash up!” Billa grabbed onto Dwalin again and threw his unresisting body again and again. What a beautiful way to start the day!

* * *

 

Thorin enjoyed sneaking down to watch Billa train in the mornings. Seeing her hair braided back and her face flush with sweat and exercise always stirred his blood. They had gotten closer over the last month and a half spending time together in the evenings on her lessons or in each other’s arms. For all that Billa was inexperienced she never shied from his touch, her lips opened like a flower to the sun under his attention.

Dwarves were not prudish in their thoughts of love and though Billa had never lain with him in a wedded manner they spent many nights together chasing away nightmares and sharing slow languid kisses. Thorin was kept from taking her while she lay pliant and warm next to him by Billa wishes for only she had the power to move them beyond kisses and long embraces. Thorin knew Billa to be an excellent student and he longed to teach her the ways of bed sport as he was **_Khuzdul_** and ** _iglishmek._** He would teach her every spot on his body that would make him a puddle of yielding flesh and help her discover those places of her own. Thorin often wondered if her tongue would be as talented in the bedroom as it was in his throne room.

“I thought I would find you here.” Balin walked to where Thorin hid in the shadows of the training arena, “We need to get going if we’re to get anything of import done today.” And though he wished to stay Thorin reluctantly turned from the sight of his intended glowing with sweat and pride and wandered back into the mountain, they were expecting Ravens today.

* * *

 

“Is it here? Is it here?” Billa couldn’t keep herself from scrambling into the Council hall where the Ravens had assembled, these were the responses to the first round of missives they had sent to far flung Kingdoms in an effort to begin treaty negations immediately after the battle. They had sent birds to Rohan and Rhun, Lorien and Rivendell and farthest of all a small flock had flown to the Shire.

“Yes, yes it’s here!” Kili waved a set of thick envelopes in her face her Grandfathers blocky writing on the front. She grabbed them from his hand before he could pull them from her reach and ripped opened the one labeled as the first in the sequence.

_Dearest Granddaughter,_

_It warms my heart to know you have survived your journey and have settled into the Mountain Erebor. I hope your dwarrows are treating you well. Your tale seems almost too Tookish to be true, to think that my little Billa has cast off her Baggins’ sensibility so thoroughly as to outwit trolls and dragons. Your Mother would be proud, your Father would try to hide it but we both know he would be pleased as well._

_Bag End has been secured under my care until you can return to it and Hamfast has been charged with keeping your garden kept and Lobelia away from your silver, so no worries there. You missed much during your adventure. You have a new Uncle! Yes that’s right your Grandmother and I are proud to welcome Isengar into the family, he takes after you and Grandmother in looks, copper fuzz sticking about at all angles. We hope you can come home soon to meet him._

_But enough pleasantries, my dear, let us get down to business. We do have extra seed stock, as you well know and would be willing to trade it if the price is right. We shall speak with the Lady Dis to see what payment they can offer for our surplus, but your suggestion of iron work is a good one indeed. We shall send all that we can spare with the first caravan from the Blue Mountains. I hope they reach you in time for planting._

_The rest of the envelopes are from the Gamgee’s, I’m almost certain he wrote an entire book on the subject of farming just for you and your dwarves. We love you and miss you my dear! May the Green Lady continue to guard you._

_With love,_

_Grandpapa Took_

Billa eagerly tore into the rest of the envelopes from Hamfast and inside was a greater treasure than all the mithril in Khazad-dum.

“Oh, my” she started skimming through the pages. “He really did write down everything!” There was a chapter on cultivating cuttings into trees, seed storage and composting. There was more written here than Billa had ever known about tending the land and growing food for a large population. Billa almost swooned.

“Careful there,” Thorin snuck up behind her reading the letter over her shoulder “is it really so much that you would faint over it?”

“You don’t understand! Hamfast Gamgee has forgotten more about gardening than I could learn in a lifetime! This is how his family has made a living for generations and he wrote it all down. Just like that! If anyone in the Shire found this they could run them out of business.” Though he didn’t understand it at first Thorin could appreciate the idea of a Master crafter keeping secrets of their trade.

“I shall have to write Master Gamgee a letter of gratitude as it is likely that you and he will be responsible for feeding three different cities come harvest time.” He leaned into her, inhaling the clean scent of her hair and skin. “We are very grateful that you would work so hard for us **_ghivashel_**.” and kissed her chastely on the lips. “I will have lunch sent to your workroom. Go now before you are overwhelmed by the excitement.”

So Billa took off with her letters to her workroom. The large stone room had been a courting gift from Thorin it had a narrow floor but was sided by rising level of stone ledges. Each ledge held wooden troughs with soil or glass jars with water. This was Billa’s cultivation room. Here she worked to grow and nurture cuttings of fruit trees and start bulbs sprouting to be transplanted into the fields later. After she nurtured them far enough they were transferred into a larger store room to be tended by some of the men and women of Laketown.

“Billa” a voice came from the other side of her door “are you here?’ Of course Bard couldn’t just walk into her work room. No one was allowed in without Billa’s permission a fact that was enforced by one of the guards that went with Billa everywhere, a condition Thorin insisted on after she accepted his proposal.  At least she didn’t have Dwalin following her everywhere all day like Thorin did. Instead she had Ginta in the morning and Ranka in the evening. They were a good sort, recruited from the Iron Hills guards that had originally come from Erebor and were planning to stay behind when Dain left for home. She enjoyed sharing tea with them and hearing of the families that would be joining them in the mountain soon. She was grateful to Thorin for finding them.

“Yes Bard!” she called from her table “Come in, come in. I have excellent news.” She continued talking over the man’s pleasantries “I got the notes from the Gamgee’s! We can finally draw out the final field plots!” Bard, who was thoroughly overwhelmed by Billa’s nonstop excitement, had stopped just inside her doorway watching her flip through the parchments and dart up and down the ledges that held her plants. “That means we can start planting by next week! We can feed the mountain! We can feed Laketown! The pastures will even be ready by the time we get stock from Rohan! Bard this is everything we’ve been working for!” She lunged from her spot on a ledge and onto Bard, squeezing him around the neck.

“Gah!” he choked from the sudden weight “Billa,” he rasped “we need to actually put things in the ground first.”

“You’re right!” she dropped to the floor, grabbing his hand instead “We need to organize the work crews, we need to clear the ground, put in the irrigation ditches and till soil!” she pulled him from the room, Ginta falling into step behind them. Bard spared a moment to wish he had been assigned to a different work crew; this was going to be a long and dirty spring.

* * *

 

“Oh Thorin we’ll be able to start the planting in the next two weeks as long as the weather holds!” Billa continued to gush over their shared dinner, the one time every week they were guaranteed to be alone together that didn’t involve sneaking into an alcove in a hallway. A tactic that wasn’t very effective since their combined guard force would then be loitering in the same hallway and even the densest of dwarves were able to deduce that the King and his Intended were also somewhere in the hallway. Dwarves may be very public in their affections sharing long kisses at the dinner table (Billa is certain she saw one dwarf giving another a “helping hand” at Thorin’s coronation feast)  but Billa was not and possibly never would be comfortable sharing such intimacies with the public.

“That is wonderful, **_mizim_** ” seeing Billa’s face turning ruddy from drink and her excitement stirred a heat in Thorin’s gut, she was beautiful in her joy and so strong, images of her on the sparring grounds ran across his mind; Billa throwing around a dwarf three times her size, her face flushed and sweaty. None of that now, he shook his head hoping to dispel his thoughts. “But perhaps you would like to start our lesson?” Their plates had long been cleared and their cups emptied and still they had not moved to the sofa from the table.

Thorin stood and went to stoke the fire, the flames casting shadows across the room.

* * *

 

 Maybe it was the warmth of the room or the feeling of pride that lingered from this morning but Billa felt giddy in a way she hadn’t in weeks. She had flutters in her tummy and watching Thorin’s eyes grow hooded and dark across the table just made her feel warm and flush. When he settled on the sofa leaving his strong thighs parted and ready for her to perch on was just too much. She had no hunger for **_iglishmek;_** tonight they would have lessons of a different sort.

She rose from her chair and moving to stand in front of the fire Billa turned towards her King, “You are an excellent teacher Thorin.” She threw a small sway into her hips as she stalked towards him, the way his eyes glued to her form emboldened her. “You are patient and kind,” She stood at his knees. “handsome and strong” she leaned into kiss him, drawing his lip between hers and nibbling on it, “and you are all mine.”

 Without a moment’s hesitation she crawled into his lap until they were flush from chest to hips. They had never kissed like this preferring to sit side by side or stand with their arms wrapped around one another but Billa was ready for more, she yearned for bolder touches and deeper embraces. It had taken them weeks for him to kiss more than her forehead, she did not fear his touch but the King feared his own strength.

“I would reward such a talented teacher.” Her eyes darted from his eyes to his lips and with the same bravery that helped her face Azog, succumbed to her passion. His lips were so warm and firm and Billa quickly lost control of herself and the kiss. Thorin sat up straighter using a hand at her neck to tilt her face into his. His other went around her hips pulling her into his bulk. His tongue twined with hers, a hot weight that made her moan. The way he nipped her lips and alternated deep questing kisses with lingering peck drove her to distraction.

“You undo me **_ghivashel”_** he growled into her mouth “I would see you fall with me.” And slowly his hand traced up the side of her neck and to her ear, he hesitated giving her time to pull away but it was unnecessary. She felt her muscles bunching low in her stomach and her breath was short and gasping and when his finger stroked from pointed tip to lobe she sucked a sharp breath as the spark of pleasure raced down her spine, all her hairs standing on end and she bowed towards him. “Ah!” her hips skittered into his.

“Are they so sensitive my little love?” his voice had gone deep and husky, he face betrayed him; he knew what this did to her.

“Yes!” she shuddered again, her hands flying to his shoulders desperate for purchase against the onslaught of pleasure.

“Do you touch them?” he wondered aloud as he continued to stroke with feather light touches, “At night when no one will catch you, do you stroke them and tweak them? Do you come from this alone?”

Oh gods his voice! It was beautiful and dark and it made something low in her gut churn and her entire face heat in a blush. She had always loved Thorin’s voice, but she never thought to hear him say such things, never thought she would find pleasure in it. “Yes! Thorin, yes, please more.” She ached for him to give her more, she could feel her clit pulsing her womb clenching never had she wanted something so badly.

“Very well.” And for all that his voice was controlled Billa could feel his cock hardening, trapped as it was between her heat and his stomach, she ground into it. He growled. “But only because you ask so prettily.” He bent forward sweeping her hair over one shoulder, using his hold on her hips to thrust against her, and he licked a wet, hot stripe across her ear.

“Thorin!” she nearly screamed when her hips thrust against his hard cock, his grip helping her to rub against him again and again. He kept her in rhythm even when her frantic need made her want to go faster and faster.

“Please Thorin, please **_kurdu._** ” She moaned as he lipped at her lobe, his tongue hot like a brand as it seared her skin. Each touch, each brush near paralyzed her in passion, was a brief moment when her brain went utterly silent and a gasp would tumble from her lips. Never had touching her ears been so wonderful, never had she felt so needy, so tense so quickly. Climaxing had always been a slow affair for her, she must be just the right temperature, in the perfect mood and then she would coax herself to a clenched peak. But this was a heated rushed affair and she was wound tighter than ever before.

“Do you feel it Billa?” Thorin’s voice was a running commentary whispered into her ear, his tongue flicking out at random intervals, his teeth grazing her between sentences. “Do you feel how I desire you?” she moaned as he pulled her against him even harder. “I can feel yours, the damp and heat that is coming from your skirts betrays you Burglar. Will you come like this?” his voice dropped even lower, every word echoed through Billa’s head, there was nothing but his voice coaxing her higher and higher and his hold clenching her tighter and tighter.

“I, Thorin, I.” she mewled and sought a more frantic friction

“Come for me treasure.” Thorin moaned and then sealed his lips on the point of her ear and sucked.

“Ah! Ah!” she felt her walls squeeze in one long clench, her clit pressed against Thorin’s cock as she shuddered once, twice, three times. She could feel the wetness spreading through her smalls and Thorin moved to encircle her completely, each arm a band of iron as he continued to thrust against her. His breath came out in harsh pants against her face; he was too far along in his passion for words as he lost himself to his rutting.

His face was beautiful in its ecstasy, his brows pulled low and his teeth clenched. “Spill against me Thorin,” she made sure to use her breathiest voice, trying to convey her satisfaction in the twisting of vowels and consonants. “Come for me.”

With perfect timing Thorin threw his head back, his dark hair spilling across his shoulders and his jaw dropped open, his eyes screwed shut as he gave a few, frantic final thrust and with a loud groan his cock twitched in his pants. She could feel the pulsing of his heart as he spent himself against her, his warmth and wetness seeping through his trousers to touch hers. Like a pudding they slumped to their sides cuddling on the sofa.

“I did not intend to carry things so far.” He whispered to her, the fire had burnt down hours ago but still they did not stir to go their separate ways or to bed together

“Nor did I.” she felt him tense beside her “But it was perfect.” She gave him a slow kiss.

Billa was not cowed  by the strength of her desire nor intimacy with Thorin, how could she be when his arms were home and his scent meant safety? No, Thorin had no reason to worry about Billa regretting their time together. Though perhaps he should worry about what she would like to learn next. She knew there were many pleasures they could share, she only hoped Thorin would be willing to teach her each and every one.


End file.
